


The Greenleaf and the Son of the Forest

by Sebastianthegiraffe13



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Elflings are adorable, Hobbit!Legolas is LotR!Legolas' cousin, Holy Eru that's a lot of ocs, Legolas and Erynion are worse than twins, Legolas has a big family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2018-10-07 06:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10353828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sebastianthegiraffe13/pseuds/Sebastianthegiraffe13
Summary: They loved each other dearly, those two. So it was unsurprising that they followed each other in and out of trouble for the whole of their lives.Their bond was like no other, the greenleaf and the son of the forest.All the important events in the lives of the Crown Prince of Mirkwood and the Commander of the Border Guard, as seen through their eyes and the eyes of those who loved them dearly.





	1. Las and Ery

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically the result of my brain not being able to cope with LotR!Legolas and Hobbit!Legolas looking radically different and therefore deciding that they're actually different people.  
> This is sort of going to function like a timeline, with all the important events (and some not so important ones).  
> Clearly, what follows is largely my headcanon, because if Peter Jackson can play fast and loose with canon, so can I.  
> That also applies to their ages, because I could not find a single definitive answer on what the conversion between human and elven ages is, so I made up my own.
> 
> As a general rule with the formatting, if it's a single line then it's a usually a change of POV. If it's a double line, then it's a drastic change in time. But I'll signpost everything so no-one gets confused.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter:  
> Two elflings are inseparable and their family loves them dearly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it begins...

* * *

* * *

 

There were many among the Greenwood who mistook them for twins, so alike did they look as children. And indeed, they behaved as twins so often do, especially twins who are bright and have a mischievous streak. But those who knew them well had little tricks to tell them apart, for they were not twins, not even brothers, merely cousins who were closer than close.

As they grew older, they were still mistaken for each other. This they used to their advantage, trading places for meetings or important occasions when one or the other was ill or injured.

They loved each other dearly, those two. So it was unsurprising that they followed each other in and out of trouble for the whole of their lives.

Their bond was like no other, the greenleaf and the son of the forest.

* * *

* * *

 

SA 3390  
_Legolas and Erynion are about 22 years old, the equivalent of 9-10 year old humans._

 

In a flurry of slender limbs and elven sprightliness, the two elflings raced through the halls of the Palace of the Greenwood. The many servants traversing the same halls smiled indulgently; the two youngsters were much loved by all their people, especially by their grandfather King Oropher.

“Las,” The shorter huffed, running after his older, taller cousin, “Wait for me.”

Las, slender and gold-haired with sharp clear grey eyes, laughed,  
“But ‘tis a chase, Ery. And you are it, as it were.”

Ery, stockier and blue-eyed, silver-blond hair barely brushing his shoulders, pouted,  
“But I’m always it, Las. And you are much faster than me.”

Las relented,  
“Come on then.” He held out his hand for Ery, “Let us walk together, as befitting princes of the realm.”

“But you’re the prince, Las. I am only a lord.” Ery pointed to the fine silver circlet that graced his cousin’s brow.

Las pondered this, then removed the circlet and resettled it upon Ery’s head,  
“And as I am prince, I say you may be prince too.”

Ery snorted,  
“I wonder what your father would have to say to that.”

“Or our grandfather,” Las said in a stage-whisper.

The pair stared at each other for moment, then they both burst out laughing, the pretty silver sounding laughter of elf-children.

* * *

 

Crown Prince Thranduil heard laughter echoing down the corridor ahead of him. Rounding the corner, he saw the pair, one gold, one silver-blond, giggling helplessly as they struggled to hold each other upright. Thranduil smirked to himself, then he crept up behind them and pounced.

Las and Ery both squeaked as they were swept up into the air.

“ _Adar_ ,” Las kissed his father’s cheek, smiling from ear to ear.  
“ _Tôrenaneth_ ,” Ery did the same on Thranduil’s other side.

The Crown Prince of the Greenwood laughed,  
“What are you two munchkins up to, hmm?” Then he frowned, “Las, why is Ery wearing your circlet?”

Ery returned it to his cousin’s head, where it sat somewhat lopsidedly. Las struck a regal pose, somehow managing to keep the lopsided circlet balanced even while he had his nose in the air.

Thranduil snorted in a most un-prince-like manner,  
“Honestly, Las, what am I going to do with you?”

Still carrying the pair, he strode into the royal wing of the palace. Ery and Las chattered the whole way there, both at him and around his head.

Lady Alassiel, Thranduil’s wife, sighed when her husband entered the family’s sitting room, carrying her son and her nephew,  
“Legolas and Erynion, what have I told you about making poor Thranduil carry you about the place?”

Las protested,  
“He picked us up, _Nana_. We were just walking and then he scooped us up and carried us away.”

“Yes,” Ery agreed, nodding vigorously, “Like we were damsels in distress.”

They both flopped dramatically over the top of Thranduil’s head, sighing outrageously.

Alassiel hid a smile behind her sleeve at the irrepressible pair,  
“Come on then, damsels in distress. What say you hop down from your brave rescuer and come and help me with these books?”

Las loosed himself from his father’s grip and jumped down. Ery clung to Thranduil’s neck until he was set down. They linked arms and followed Alassiel out of the room, chattering once again.

King Oropher wandered into the sitting room, with his arms full of books and bits of paper. He dumped the whole lot rather unceremoniously on the nearest table,  
“Las and Ery?”

Thranduil laughed,  
“Who else?”

Sorting through his pile of papers, Oropher smiled,  
“It cheers my heart to hear their laughter ringing through these halls. Makes the Greenwood even brighter.” He sighed heavily and leaned both hands on the table.

Thranduil came over, dropping his voice to just above a whisper,  
“ _Adar_ , is something wrong?”

Oropher shook his head,  
“I honestly don’t know. I hope not, at least not until Las and Ery are a little older.” He walked across to the large window and stared out at the forest, folding his arms across his broad chest.

Thranduil came to stand at his father’s shoulder,  
“You think we are still headed for war? After all we’ve been through?”

Oropher turned to face his son, cupping Thranduil’s chin in one hand and running his thumb over the prince’s cheekbone,  
“I wish it were not so, that your scarring from Ancagalon’s fire might be the last wound you take in war. Yet somehow I think that will not happen.”

Thranduil leaned his head further into his father’s touch, closing his eyes,  
“I feel in my heart that you are right, _Adar_. I only hope for Las and Ery’s sake that war does not come to us too soon.”

Oropher smiled sadly,  
“I hope so too.”

* * *

 

Oropher didn’t get a chance to see his grandsons until after dinner. First, he’d had a meeting with his councillors, then one with the guild masters, then he’d had to do an inspection of his army’s barracks. He hadn’t even managed to have dinner yet, but it was almost time for Legolas and Erynion to go to bed and he always made time to say goodnight to them.

As he neared their room, he bumped into his daughter Princess Siladhiel coming down the corridor from their room,  
“Siladhiel, how was your day?”

Siladhiel kissed his cheek,  
“Just a day, _Adar_. Nothing outstandingly good or bad happened.” She smiled, “Las and Ery are waiting for you to say goodnight. Then could you tuck them in and blow out their candles?”

“Of course, _sellnin_.”

* * *

 

The second Oropher opened the door and stepped into the room, he was attacked by two small elflings,  
“ _Daeradar_!”

Oropher laughed as he patted their heads,  
“Hello, Las, Ery. How was your day today?”

As usual when asked a question, Erynion went first,  
“We just did all our usual things, _Daeradar_. Ran through the corridors, played hide and seek…”

“Helped _Nana_ sort out some books,” Legolas interjected, sitting on the floor and pulling Erynion down with him.

“And then the funniest thing happened,” Erynion continued, tugging at Oropher’s sleeve until the king joined them on the floor, “We were walking down one of the halls, just minding our own business…”

Legolas nudged his cousin,  
“Actually we were laughing our heads off. But _Adar_ came up behind us and swept us off our feet…”

“Like we were damsels in distress,” Erynion said between giggles.

Legolas was giggling too,  
“And then he carried us into the sitting room and _Nana_ , she…”

They both collapsed in fits of laughter and Oropher looked at them curiously,  
“What? What did Alassiel do?”

Legolas and Erynion glanced at each other then chorused,  
“She told him off!” Then they dissolved into giggles again.

Oropher couldn’t help chuckling, even as he shook his head at the irrepressible pair,  
“Honestly, what are we going to do with you two?”

Neither elfling could manage to stop laughing long enough to reply.

* * *

 

Eventually Legolas and Erynion calmed down.

Legolas panted and leaned heavily against Oropher’s side,  
“ _Daeradar_ , my stomach hurts.”

“Mine too,” Erynion sighed.

Oropher smiled,  
“That’s what happens when you laugh too hard. Come on, you two, bedtime.”

“Aw,” Erynion said, even as he was yawning, “Do we have to, _Daeradar_?”

Scooping the pair up easily, Oropher deposited first one, then the other into their beds,  
“Yes, you do, Ery. Princes of the realm need their sleep, or they can’t rule properly.”

“Maybe you should tell _Adar_ that,” Legolas said, snuggling down, “I don’t think he sleeps.”

Oropher shook his head in exasperation,  
“He does, just not as much as he should.” He looked over at Erynion, who was already mostly asleep, “But at least one member of this family is getting the sleep he needs.”

Legolas smiled sleepily,  
“Ery can sleep anywhere.”

Oropher tucked his younger grandson into bed properly and kissed his forehead,  
“Goodnight, Erynion. Sleep well.”

Erynion mumbled something unintelligible and Oropher chuckled softly.

Legolas was bundled up in his blankets, his beloved soft toy elk Ari tucked under his chin,  
“Goodnight, _Daeradar_.”

Oropher smiled fondly,  
“Goodnight, Las.” He kissed Legolas’ forehead.

He snuffed out the room’s four candles and left the room.

Just as he reached the door, Legolas called out softly,  
“ _Daeradar_?”

Oropher turned back to look at Legolas. Even with his elven eyesight, the king could only just make out his grandson’s small face in the dark; gold hair and pale grey eyes so like his own.  
“Yes, Legolas?”

“I love you, _Daeradar_.”

Oropher smiled,  
“I love you too, Greenleaf. Sleep well, my little leafling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it!
> 
> The Elvish either comes from Hiswelókë (online) or Ambar Eldaron (which you can download as an ebook). I also use the Sindarin phrasebook by slarmstrong on tumblr, which has some things that neither dictionary has.  
> Adar- Father  
> Tôrenaneth- Uncle (Brother of my mother) It's actually Tôr-en-naneth, but squishing it into one word looks better.  
> Sellnin- my daughter  
> Daeradar- Grandfather  
> Nana- Mother (from Naneth)
> 
> This is going to be a big thing, because we've got years and years until we reach even the Hobbit.  
> Buckle up, it's going to be a bumpy ride.
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr: sebastianthegiraffe and as always, comments and constructive criticism are always apprecicated.
> 
> Next Chapter:   
> A terrible loss befalls the Royal Family, causing one member to leave abruptly. Visitors from Rivendell arrive to try and set things right
> 
> Tschüs!


	2. Our Lady of the Greenwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Las and Ery  
> Two young elflings are inseparable and their family loves them dearly.
> 
> This Chapter:  
> A terrible loss befalls the Royal Family, causing one member to leave abruptly. Visitors from Rivendell arrive to try and set things right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter involves a death (non-canon character), but I don't go into details regarding the death and it doesn't happen 'onstage' as it were.
> 
> What this chapter does have is a rather unhealthy coping mechanism; no suicide or self-harming, just a lot of not talking about things and not processing grief in a particularly useful way.
> 
> You have been warned. Read at your own risk. Please enjoy.

* * *

* * *

 

SA 3409  
_Legolas and Erynion are 41 years old, the equivalent of 13-14 year old humans._

 

June

Erynion felt the scream tear through his heart and stumbled.

“Ery?” Lord Tegalad’s voice was full of concern as he peered at his son, “Is everything alright?”

Erynion sat down on the floor, hard,  
“I…I do not know, _Adar_. My chest hurts, as though something has been ripped out of me, though I know not what.”

Tegalad crouched by his son and brushed a few loose strands of silver-blond hair out of Erynion’s face. The Sylvan lord’s deep gold eyes were full of worry,  
“Can you reach your cousin?”

Erynion’s ice-blue eyes were wide with shock,  
“He is in pain, terrible pain, _Adar_ …So much pain…”

Tegalad stiffened momentarily, then he grasped his son by the shoulders and pulled him to standing,  
“Come on, Ery. I think we need to find your mother.”

* * *

 

Princess Siladhiel gathered Erynion into her arms the second he was in the room,  
“By the Valar, Erynion, are you alright? I felt the pain, but I do not know what is going on.”

“Nor I,” Erynion said, resting his head on his mother’s chest, “Though I fear it may be something to do with Las and Uncle Thranduil.”

Tegalad wrapped his arms around them both,  
“Whatever has happened, I’m sure we will know soon enough.”

The three of them sat there for a time, until a knock came at the door and Lord Istuion, one of the Royal advisors, entered. His blond hair was in disarray and his normally vivid green eyes were blurry with tears,  
“My lords, Princess. I bring terrible news.”

Tegalad rose smoothly,  
“Istuion, what has happened?”

Istuion blinked furiously and rubbed a hand across his eyes,  
“It is…the Lady Alassiel…” He broke off, sniffing.

Siladhiel was up and at his side in an instant,  
“Oh, Istuion. Your darling sister, what happened?”

“She is dead,” Erynion said dully, staring off into nothingness.

Istuion nodded,  
“It as your son says, my lady.” He shuddered, “My sister is gone from this world…”

Siladhiel wrapped her arms securely around him as he broke down in tears,  
“ _Hervenn_ , go and find my brother. If his wife has indeed died, then I fear for his heart. See if you can find Legolas as well.”

* * *

 

Tegalad found Thranduil and Legolas with King Oropher in the Royal Family’s chambers. Though he was many years past his majority, the Crown Prince was fast asleep in his father’s lap. Tear tracks marked his fair skin and he slept with his eyes closed, as elves do only when truly exhausted. Legolas was sitting on the floor at the king’s feet, his grey eyes focussed on nothing.

Oropher glanced up from stroking his son’s hair, as Tegalad entered the room. He gave the Sylvan lord a sad smile,  
“I trust you heard the news.”

Tegalad nodded,  
“Yes, my king. It is true then, the Lady Alassiel is dead?”

“Yes,” Oropher said with a sigh, “Killed by orcs no less.”

“Did the enemy maul her?”

Oropher carefully moved the sleeping Thranduil off his lap and stood up,  
“No, thank the Valar for that small mercy.” He seemed about to say something else, when Legolas suddenly curled in on himself and started sobbing.

“She died in my arms…” He raised his eyes to the two older elves, tears running down his face, “My mother…I could not save her and now…She is…gone…”

Oropher and Tegalad exchanged worried glances, then the king came to kneel at his grandson’s side,  
“It was not your fault, Las. Your mother died bravely.”

Legolas turned his face into his grandfather’s broad chest, tears dampening the king’s robes,  
“She is gone, _Daeradar_ …I cannot feel her at all, there is only a hole in my heart…” He buried his face in Oropher’s robes, his shoulders trembling with silent sobs.

Oropher seemed close to tears himself,  
“Oh Valar, Legolas. I know this is hard for you to bear. But I’ll wager your mother would not have wanted to die any other way than with you by her side until the end.” He pulled Legolas in closer to him and rested his head on top of his grandson’s, “But you must be strong, my Greenleaf. This loss has hurt your father deeply and he will need your strength if he is to carry on. Do you understand?”

Half-hidden under Oropher’s hair, hair the same bright corn-gold as his own, Legolas nodded,  
“Yes, _Daeradar_. I will do my best.”

Oropher smiled gently and kissed Legolas’ forehead,  
“That, my little leafling, is all I ask.”

Lord Tegalad left them to their grief and went in search of Alassiel’s parents. Too many lives would be damaged by the loss of Greenwood’s beloved Lady.

* * *

 

Erynion was numb. He watched as if through someone else’s eyes, as King Oropher spoke of Lady Alassiel’s kindness and her ever-radiant smile. Prince Thranduil stood at his father’s side, his grey-blue eyes shining with unshed tears. All who had ever known the pair had seen how much Thranduil loved Alassiel and how much she loved him. Beside Thranduil, one shoulder brushing his father’s, was Legolas. Erynion’s cousin was the very pillar of strength and support, his pale grey eyes a mirror to his grandfather’s as he stood by Thranduil’s side for the whole ceremony.

Alassiel had been dressed in her favourite dress: a bright blue one with gold embroidery. Her blonde hair was crowned with the beautiful silver circlet given to her by Oropher at her wedding to Thranduil. As the bearers laid her body on the pyre, Lord Lairelandon stepped forward and closed his daughter’s beautiful brown eyes for the last time.

Thranduil broke down in silent tears as Oropher and Lairelandon lit their torches and touched them to the base of the pyre. All the elves present bowed their head in respect for their much loved Lady of the Greenwood; palace servants, guards, even many of the common-folk had come to pay tribute to her memory.

 _Ery…_ A soft voice echoed through Erynion’s head, coloured the bright sunshine gold he associated with his cousin, _Take my father up to my room…I fear watching my mother’s body burn will be too much for him and he will not want to sleep in his own bed tonight…_

 _Of course…_ Erynion replied.

* * *

 

Thranduil was practically deadweight to Erynion as he helped his uncle up to his rooms. The Crown Prince’s eyes were glazed over and he stumbled against Erynion with little of his usual elven grace.

As Erynion sat Thranduil on Legolas’ bed, Thranduil blinked,  
“Las?”

Erynion shook his head,  
“I’m sorry, _Tôrenaneth_ , I am Erynion. Legolas is downstairs, should I send for him?”

Thranduil rested his head on Erynion’s shoulder,  
“No, just for a moment, I feared I had lost him too.” As Erynion moved away, Thranduil started, “Erynion, do not leave me.”

Erynion smiled,  
“I am just going to fetch some water, _Tôrenaneth_. I am not leaving you, I promised Las I would look after you.”

Thranduil slumped over slightly,  
“Thank you, Ery…You are a credit to my sister and to your father.”

* * *

 

His mother’s ashes had been gathered from the funeral pyre and placed in a small casket inscribed with her name. Lord Revion, her youngest brother, carried the casket, as Lord Lairelandon and Lord Istuion led the family away from the ceremony and into the quiet stillness of the gardens. Queen Linnadhiel and Princess Siladhiel took Lady Geliriel’s hands in silent support; the Sylvan Lady had not spoken a word since the news of her daughter’s death had been brought back to the Palace, had not even shed a tear so numbing was her grief.

“Legolas,” King Oropher’s voice startled him out of his thoughts.

“Yes, my king.”

Oropher placed a hand on Legolas’ shoulder,  
“Where is Thranduil?”

Legolas gave his grandfather a half-smile,  
“I had Ery take him upstairs. He would not have been able to cope with seeing my mother’s body burned. Is _Daernaneth_ alright?”

Somehow Oropher knew which grandmother he meant,  
“I fear your mother’s death may cause Lady Geliriel’s fading, but for now Linnadhiel is looking after her. Are you alright?”

As they fell into step with the rest of the procession to the Royal Family’s private gardens, Legolas shrugged,  
“I am…alright, _Daeradar_.”

* * *

 

The gardens were quiet and devoid of any other elves. Lairelandon led the family to where Alassiel’s ashes would be laid, to where a young oak sapling had already been planted to protect them.

Legolas took comfort in Oropher’s solid presence at his shoulder as Alassiel’s family: Lairelandon, Geliriel, Istuion and Revion, laid her ashes to rest under the little tree. Geliriel sobbed brokenly as her sons filled in the hole and Queen Linnadhiel stepped to her side to lead her away.

As the other elves moved away, leaving only Oropher and Legolas standing by the grave, Legolas knelt next to the tree,  
_May you grow tall and strong, little one. Long may you watch over my mother’s memory and keep her safe._

The sapling sounded unsure, but it answered strongly,  
_I shall do my best, my prince._

 _That is all I ask,_ Legolas replied, touching one hand to his heart and then to the tree. The tree shivered slightly and all its leaves turned to gold.

Legolas stepped away from the tree and bowed his head,  
“To your memory, _Naneth_. May you rest ever peaceful by the grace of the Valar.”

Oropher placed a hand on Legolas’ cheek,  
“Your mother would be proud of you, Greenleaf. As are we all in her place.”

Legolas gave his grandfather a smile,  
“I only hope I can do her memory justice.”

* * *

 

Not wishing to have to deal with all the elves gathered in the Palace halls to pass on their condolences to the Royal Family, Legolas left the gardens and headed towards his chambers via the back staircase. It was a route none of the servants used, so he could be sure of a little time alone with his thoughts.

Erynion was still in his room, when Legolas reached it. His cousin was sitting on the bed, reading. Thranduil lay next to him, apparently asleep, though he had his back to the door so Legolas couldn’t really tell.

“Ery?”

Erynion startled slightly,  
“Las, you need to make more noise when you come in. You made me jump.”

Legolas ignored the jibe and immediately went to his father’s side,  
“How is he?”

Erynion put his book aside,  
“He’s been asleep almost since I got him up here. Is everyone else alright?”

Legolas removed his ceremonial circlet and set it on the dresser,  
“My mother will be sorely missed by many,” He sighed as he started changing into his sleeping clothes, “Though _Daeradar_ seems to think that this loss will cause Geliriel to fade.”

Erynion moved over so that Legolas could sit down,  
“Do you think she will?”

Legolas leaned over so he could rest his head on his cousin’s shoulder,  
“I fear she will. In fact, I would be most surprised if she did not.” He yawned, “And what of you, Ery? Are you alright?”

Erynion pulled them both backwards, so he was lying against the pillows and Legolas was lying against his chest,  
“Ever the worrier you are, Las. It is I who should be asking you that question.”

“I think I will be alright,” Legolas murmured.

* * *

 

It was much later when Oropher finally made it upstairs to check on his son. There had been many to console, many elves who had been touched in one way or another by his daughter-in-law’s charm and beautiful smile.

The sight that met his eyes as he entered the room made him smile. Thranduil and Legolas were curled up around each other, their eyes closed in the dreamless sleep of the truly exhausted. Erynion was sitting on the window-seat with his nose in a book, but he looked up as Oropher came in.

“How is everyone?”

Oropher crossed to his younger grandson’s side and put an arm around his shoulders, shoulders which were growing to be as broad as his own,  
“The Greenwood will mourn the loss of Lady Alassiel Nessima, but even the deepest scars will fade with time and every tree that falls leaves space for a new one to grow. Yes, the Greenwood will mourn but in days to come we will cherish every moment that we were blessed with her grace.”

Erynion yawned and leaned against Oropher’s shoulder,  
“That’s quite profound, _Daeradar_ …By the Valar, I’m tired.”

Oropher kissed his grandson’s forehead,  
“You should get some sleep, Ery.” He nodded towards the bed, where Thranduil and Legolas lay sleeping.

Erynion shook his head,  
“There is space for one more there, and I think you should take it.” He rose and headed towards the door, “Thranduil will need you, _Daeradar_. Legolas too, even if he will not admit it. I will sleep in my own bed tonight.”

Oropher smiled as Erynion left the room. Erynion was growing into a fine young elf, strong and proud like his mother, but with a gentle kindness that spoke worlds about his father Tegalad. The king turned his attention to the two sleepers and he sighed.

Losing Alassiel would be a hard burden for Thranduil to bear, but his son was strong, he would manage. It was Legolas who Oropher was more concerned about. His grandson had displayed a maturity far beyond his years in the past few days and Oropher feared that once the reality of his mother’s death had sunk in, Legolas would collapse.

Removing his outer robes, his crown and his boots, Oropher lay down so that his body curved around Legolas but so he could still reach Thranduil. In this position, the king gave one final deep sigh and let himself sleep.

* * *

 

True to Oropher’s prediction, Lady Geliriel did not survive long past the death of her daughter. The Sylvan Lady’s will to live faded fast and they buried her ashes alongside her daughter’s within the month.

Throughout the whole process, Legolas remained steadfast and unwavering, never showing any weakness and shedding no tears. Thranduil, though still grieving for his beloved wife, worried almost constantly about his son, who never burdened anyone with his emotions and indeed often seemed to not feel anything at all.

It came to a head the day after Geliriel’s funeral, when Erynion burst into the Royal suite in a panic,  
“ _Tôrenaneth_ , he’s gone!”

Thranduil, who had been in conversation with Lord Tegalad, stood up abruptly,  
“Who’s gone, Ery?”

Erynion’s silvery hair was still obviously sleep-tousled and his blue eyes were glassy with tears,  
“It is Legolas, my lord. Your son is gone.”

And he was.

The entire Palace was scoured and as much of the Greenwood as possible. The first speculation was that someone had somehow kidnapped him, but Erynion reported that Legolas’ bed was untouched, had not been slept in and that his funeral clothes were still in his room. It became apparent that Legolas had come back to his room following Lady Geliriel’s funeral, changed into travelling clothes, taken his weapons and left.

Though the whole kingdom searched and searched, no trace of Greenwood’s Greenleaf was found.

Legolas Thranduilion, the Child Prince of the Greenwood, was gone.

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

September

When the raven came from Imladris with the letter from Lord Elrond requesting a visit, Oropher rejoiced. Elrond was a close friend of Thranduil’s. Surely the Peredhel could help the Crown Prince, for Thranduil had lost much of his life from the death of his wife and the mysterious vanishing of his son.

“You seem happy today, _Daeradar_ ,” Erynion said quietly.

The king turned to his younger grandson. Erynion had lost a fair amount of weight since Legolas’ disappearance and there were deep shadows under his eyes. Losing Legolas had taken its toll on most of them, not just Thranduil.

Oropher smiled,  
“You have never met Lord Elrond of Imladris, but he is a great friend of your uncle’s. If anyone can help Thranduil, Elrond can.” He paused, thinking, “But he does not know that Thranduil has a son, so we must keep Legolas a secret.”

“Pretend Las has never existed, got it.” Erynion said with a tiny smile, “We really don’t trust well, do we?”

He pulled a fresh piece of parchment across his desk, to immediately compose a reply. The raven sitting on his desk watched him with a calculating look in its beady eyes; it looked rather pleased with itself, like it knew something that Oropher didn’t.

* * *

 

Pausing on the western border of the Greenwood, Elrond gazed up at the tall trees. Glorfindel, formely of Gondolin, eased his horse up to his Lord’s side,  
“Penny for your thoughts, Elrond?”

Elrond shook his head,  
“You would waste your penny, Glorfindel. I give my thoughts to you freely.” He gestured to the forest before them, “From the way Oropher wrote, it sounds as though Thranduil is at his wit’s end and I do not like to think of my friend thus.”

Glorfindel smiled,  
“Well with a bit of luck, he will not be that way for long.” He glanced over his shoulder, “And even if Thranduil were not in despair, we still have a job to do. How is he anyway?”

“Rilien? Still not all there. I think he’s still a little bit in shock, but hopefully getting him back to his family will help.”

Glorfindel shrugged,  
“That’s if we find his family. We have only Rilien’s word that he comes from the Greenwood and he hasn’t exactly been coherent since we found him.”

Elrond nodded,  
“True.” He clicked his tongue at his horse, “Well, no use sitting out here for hours. The sooner we get on, the sooner we will reach the palace.”

Glorfindel looked back over his shoulder. The young elf called Rilien was riding some way behind them, his gold hair a clear beacon among the mostly darker-haired Imladris elves. Glorfindel had found Rilien wandering the wilds of Eriador and had brought him back to Imladris. It had taken a good three weeks for Rilien to actually say anything and the only useful information they’d been able to get out of him was that he came from the Greenwood, so they’d taken the young elf with them on their visit.

“I hope we find his family,” Glorfindel said quietly. The Balrog Slayer had taken quite a shine to Rilien in the past few weeks and desperately wanted to help him, in any way he could.

* * *

 

A group of elves met them at the Palace gates, bowing politely. Their leader, a tall blond-haired elf stepped forward,   
“Welcome to the Greenwood, Lord Elrond of Imladris. My name is Lord Tegalad. If you and your company would follow, the servants will take you to your rooms. When you have freshened up from your journey, I will bring you to the throne room, where the king will meet you.”

Indicating for his company to follow the servants, Elrond lingered briefly,  
“Lord Tegalad, I have a request to ask of you if it’s not too much trouble.”

“If it is within my power to grant your request, I will do my best to do so,” The blond elf said with a graceful incline of his head, “What was it you needed, Lord Elrond?”

Elrond turned and beckoned to Rilien,  
“Come here, young one. Tegalad, this is Rilien. Lord Glorfindel found him wandering the wilds of Eriador, lost in a state of grief and pain. It took quite a few weeks to bring him to a state where he was able to speak, but he said he comes from the Greenwood. I hoped we would be able to find his family.”

Tegalad was staring strangely at the young elf, who couldn’t seem to meet his gaze,  
“I am sure we will able to find your family, Rilien. If you come with me, we can look through the records together.” He smiled at Elrond and Glorfindel, “I’m sure his family will be overjoyed to know he is safe.”

As he led Rilien away, the young elf glanced back at them over his shoulder and mouthed ‘Thank you.’ A pretty young elleth with brown hair stepped forward to lead Elrond and Glorfindel to their rooms.

“The Greenwood seems a little subdued,” Glorfindel commented, as the servant led them through the corridors.

She glanced at him over her shoulder,  
“We recently lost our beloved Lady of the Greenwood, my lord. She was taken from us by the enemy.”

Elrond sighed,  
“Poor Thranduil, he loved Alassiel dearly. I’m not surprised he’s in such a state.” He turned to the servant, “What is your name, my dear?”

She smiled prettily,  
“Arasinya, my lord. Here are your rooms, Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel’s are just next door.”

Elrond opened the door,  
“Lord Tegalad mentioned an audience with Oropher.”

Arasinya curtsied,  
“Once you have had time to refresh yourselves, I’m sure someone will come to take you there. If you need anything, my lords, don’t hesitate to ask.”

As soon as Arasinya had gone, Glorfindel sighed,  
“I hope Tegalad manages to find Rilien’s family.”

* * *

 

Tegalad just about made it into his study and shut the door, before he flung himself at Rilien,  
“By the stars, thank the Valar you’re safe. We were so worried, you have been gone for so long.” He cupped the younger elf’s chin and kissed his forehead, “Why did you disappear, Legolas?”

Legolas avoided his uncle’s gaze,  
“I’m sorry, I know it was selfish and irresponsible of me and I shouldn’t have for all the reasons ever…”

Tegalad pulled Legolas into an embrace again,  
“I couldn’t care less, and I doubt your father or your grandfather will care either. I’m just happy you’re home safe.”

Legolas slumped into Tegalad’s arms,  
“I’m so sorry…”

“You are home and safe, Las. That is all that matters.” Tegalad brushed a loose gold strand out of his nephew’s face, “Our Greenleaf has come home.”

* * *

 

A blond elf with bright green eyes came to fetch Elrond and Glorfindel after about an hour,  
“My lords, welcome to the Greenwood. I hope everything is to your liking.”

Elrond nodded,  
“Most definitely…” He trailed off, as though asking for a name.

“Lord Istuion, my lord,” The elf answered smoothly, “If you and Lord Glorfindel are ready, I will take to the throne room. The king is waiting to see you.”

As they walked through the corridors, Glorfindel glanced sideways at Istuion,  
“How is it that you all know my name? I don’t think Elrond ever actually introduced me and yet both you and Lord Tegalad seemed to know instantly who I was.”

Istuion shrugged, a hint of a smile crossing his face,  
“Long blond hair, fair of face and at least a head taller than just about everyone else? Who else could you be, my lord?”

Glorfindel opened his mouth and then closed it again. Elrond laughed softly,  
“He has a point, Glorfindel.”

As they entered the throne room, Lord Istuion cleared his throat,  
“My king? May I present Lord Elrond of Imladris and Lord Glorfindel. My lords, his Majesty King Oropher Talathion of the Greenwood.”

Oropher rolled his eyes,  
“Honestly, Istuion,” The king’s tone was that of fond exasperation, “It is not as though they are visiting lords from some far-off land. Lord Elrond is an old friend.”

“I am aware of that, my king, but there are protocols that need to be followed…”

“Istuion,” Oropher sighed.

Istuion looked suitably abashed,  
“Yes, my lord.” He ducked his head and hurried out of the room.

Oropher watched him go,  
“Don’t mind Istuion. He’s gone protocol crazy ever since Alassiel died. I think it’s his way of coping, he misses his sister terribly.”

Elrond blinked in surprise,  
“So that’s Alassiel’s younger brother?”

Oropher came down from his throne,  
“One of them, yes. The youngest is Lord Revion, who doesn’t spend much time here anymore.” He clasped forearms with Elrond, “It is wonderful to see you, Elrond.”

Elrond returned the grip,  
“As it is to see you, my lord. Thank you for your hospitality.”

Oropher smiled,  
“For the last time, Elrond, I am not your lord or anything of the sort. Come, Thranduil will be glad to see you.” He turned to Glorfindel, “It is good to see you too, Lord Glorfindel. You are most welcome here. Come, Thranduil will be thrilled to see you, Elrond.”

* * *

 

Prince Thranduil was waiting in the Royal family’s sitting room. He embraced Elrond fondly,  
“It is good to see you, El. I have missed you much these past years.”

Elrond returned the embrace,  
“As I have missed you, _mellonin_. But I did not just come on a social visit. I wish to pay my respects to your wife’s grave, if I may. I have fond memories of Alassiel from your visits to Rivendell.”

Thranduil inclined his head,  
“Of course, I shall take you.”

As the two friends left, Oropher heaved a great sigh and sat down on the nearest chair,  
“Thank the Valar you came when you did. After the loss of Alassiel, I feared we might well lose him too.”

He gestured to the chair opposite and Glorfindel took a seat,  
“How long have you known Elrond?”

Oropher smiled,  
“Since he and Thranduil were elflings, along with Elrond’s twin Elros of course. The three of them used to get up to the worst mischief together.”

Glorfindel had to stifle a laugh at the thought of the usually uptight Elrond getting into trouble,  
“Don’t elflings always get up to mischief?”

Oropher chuckled,  
“I would have to agree with you on that account, Glorfindel.”

* * *

 

“See you at dinner, El.” Thranduil called over his shoulder as he left Elrond’s room.

He was heading down one of the less-used corridors on his way back to his chambers, when Lord Tegalad burst out of the nearest door, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back into the room.

“Tegalad!” Thranduil gasped, “What are you doing?”

Tegalad’s gold eyes shone with a joy that Thranduil had not seen in any of his family for some months,  
“I have something you need to see. Come on.”

Thranduil let Tegalad pull him through the palace’s secret passageways, until they were standing outside Legolas’ room. There Thranduil stopped, unwilling to make himself open the door,  
“Tegalad, why exactly have you brought me here? You know I haven’t gone into this room since Las disappeared.”

Tegalad put a hand on Thranduil’s arm,  
“Elrond and Glorfindel brought a young elf with them. They found him wandering the wilds of Eridaor, but he comes from the Greenwood. I said I’d try to find his family for him.” The Sylvan Lord gave the prince a knowing look, “His name is Rilien.”

Thranduil’s mouth fell open in shock,  
“Rilien?”

Tegalad smiled and opened the door.

* * *

 

Standing in the centre of the room was a slender young elf with corn-gold hair and pale grey eyes.

Thranduil drew in a sharp breath,  
“Legolas…”

Legolas bit his lip and looked away,  
“Adar, I…”

The rest of his sentence was lost as Thranduil flung himself at Legolas, pulling his son close to his chest,  
“My Greenleaf, you are safe, you have come back to me.”

Legolas rested his head against Thranduil’s shoulder, sounding close to tears,  
“Adar, I am so sorry…I just couldn’t stay…I couldn’t be the strength you needed me to be…”

Thranduil cupped one hand under his son’s chin and lifted his head,  
“You need only be as strong as you feel you can be, Las.” He frowned slightly, “Though next you feel you cannot cope, I would prefer you just come to me or your grandfather, rather than disappearing like that. You had us all worried sick.”

Legolas ducked his head sheepishly,  
“I’m sorry, _Adar_ …I needed some time to myself, to think, to process my grief on my own without having to deal with everyone else’s as well.”

Thranduil pulled away from Legolas, still gripping his son’s hands,  
“What I don’t understand is why Elrond didn’t mention that you were with him. And why Tegalad said you gave your name as Rilien.”

“Just something _Daeradar_ said to me once,” Legolas said with a small smile, “He told me to never give my name as Legolas unless I knew that the person already knew who I was, being a prince and everything.”

Thinking of his father’s preference to be suspicious first and make friends later, Thranduil laughed,  
“I can imagine that being something he would say.”

Legolas shrugged minutely,  
“Since I’d never met Lord Glorfindel or Lord Elrond, I thought it was better to be safe than sorry. So I said Rilien, rather than Legolas. Besides, Elrond doesn’t actually know I exist, remember?”

Thranduil pulled Legolas back into a tight embrace,  
“The manner of your return matters not. You are home and you are safe. The Greenwood has its Greenleaf back.”

Leaning his head against his father’s shoulder, Legolas closed his eyes and exhaled slowly,  
“I am glad to be home.” He pulled away slightly, grinning, “I’ve just realised something.”

“What?” Thranduil asked curiously.

Legolas’ grin widened,  
“Ery is going to kill me.”

Thranduil just laughed,  
“Legolas Rilien Thranduilion Oropherion, what are we going to do with you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully that wasn't too distressing for anyone. As always, comments and constructive criticism is appreciated and I'm on tumblr: sebastianthegiraffe so come yell at me about things.
> 
> The Elvish either comes from Hiswelókë (online) or Ambar Eldaron (which you can download as an ebook). I also use the Sindarin phrasebook by slarmstrong on tumblr, which has some things that neither dictionary has.  
> Adar- Father  
> Hervenn- Husband  
> Daeradar- Grandfather  
> Tôrenaneth- Uncle (Brother of my mother)  
> Aranin- My king  
> Daernaneth- Grandmother  
> Naneth- Mother  
> Mellonin- My friend
> 
> Next chapter:  
> The Forces of Mordor attack and the Last Alliance is formed. The Greenwood's forces leave to fight in the war.  
> Spoiler alert: that will mean deaths, just putting that out there.
> 
> Tschüs!


	3. All Leaves Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter:  
> A terrible loss befalls the Royal Family, causing one member to leave abruptly. Visitors from Rivendell arrive to try and set things right.
> 
> This Chapter:  
> The Forces of Mordor attack and the Last Alliance is formed. The Greenwood's forces leave to fight in the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, I haven't got much of an excuse for why this has taken me so long... I just couldn't find a clean ending for this section, so I've had to cut it in half.  
> Having said that, this chapter does mention death (not particularly explicitly) and features some not very healthy coping mechanisms. Please tread carefully.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

* * *

 

SA 3429  
_Legolas and Erynion are 61 years old, the equivalent of 17-18 year old humans._

 

No-one quite knew what it was. The day started out as many summer days do, warm and bright and sunny. But there was something in the air that was different, something wrong.

For Thranduil, the first obvious sign came just after he woke up. Since Lady Alassiel’s death and his son’s subsequent disappearance, he and Legolas had got into the habit of touching each other’s minds upon waking, just to check that the other was okay.

On this particular morning, Legolas’ mind was a tangled ball of stress. Knowing that his son was far more sensitive to changes in the Song of Arda than either him or Oropher, Thranduil went off in search of his father. If Legolas was stressed, he would be almost impossible to find.

King Oropher was in his study, a report of some sort in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. He looked up as Thranduil came in and gestured at the tray on the sidetable,  
“Breakfast, _ionin_?”

Thranduil helped himself to toast and a cup of tea,  
“Thank you, _Adar_. Have you seen Legolas this morning?”

“No…” Oropher said slowly, “Erynion asked me the same thing, though. Is everything alright?”

Thranduil perched on the corner of the desk,  
“I’m not sure. He feels very stressed, but I can’t tell why.”

Oropher deftly signed the report and slid it to one side,  
“Could just be he’s picking something up that we can’t feel. You know he’s more in tune with the Song than we are.” He folded his arms on the tabletop, “Tegalad and Istuion are both really jumpy today as well.”

“So it’s not just Legolas?”

“Apparently not.”

Thranduil sighed,  
“I would quite like to know where Legolas is though.”

Oropher pulled another report across the table,  
“Treetops would be my guess. Try up the Lookout Tree.” He looked up again, “Go on, _ionin_ , I can manage here for the moment.”

* * *

 

The Lookout Tree was one of the tallest trees in the Greenwood, a huge chestnut tree that had been watching over the forest for many years. Placing a hand on the trunk, Thranduil opened his spirit to that of the tree.

 _Good morning, Prince Thranduil._ There was something very soothing about the way this tree spoke.

 _Good morning, old friend,_ Thranduil responded, _How are you this fine summer day?_ A little politeness went a long way when talking to trees, as they could be a bit prickly, especially older ones.

The tree sounded a little concerned,  
_I am alright, my prince. The sun is warming to my leaves and there is a breeze off the western mountains that is pleasantly refreshing._ It paused, as if thinking, _Your son, on the other hand, is not alright._

Thranduil heaved a sigh that was half relief and half the exact opposite,  
_Is he within your branches?_

_Yes, almost at the very top. I think you should come up to him, he seems not quite himself._

_I will._ Thranduil said, _Thank you, my friend._

* * *

 

Legolas was perched on a very high branch, one leg up to his chest and the other dangling. His grey eyes were fixed on the east and he had one of his long white knives in his hands, turning it over and over as he often did when he was stressed.

“Las?” Thranduil said quietly.

Legolas looked down to the branch Thranduil was standing on,  
“Mmm?”

“Do you want me to come up?”

Legolas shrugged one shoulder, so Thranduil climbed up to the branch next the one his son was sitting on.

Thranduil took this opportunity to scrutinise Legolas. There was a lot of tension in his shoulders and although he was very still, his hands weren’t. He was flipping his knife from hand to hand, spinning it in the air and catching it without looking. His gaze remained fixed on the east.

Thranduil sighed,  
“Las, what’s wrong?”

Legolas looked down at the knife in his hands,  
“The Song doesn’t feel right, there’s something off about it today. Maybe not even today, maybe tomorrow, I can’t really tell.”

“You sound like Elrond,” Thranduil said with a soft laugh.

Legolas managed a smile,  
“Sometimes I wish I had the gift of foresight, it seems a good deal more useful than this Song business. Why do I have it, _Adar_? Why am I so attuned to the Song, when no-one else is?”

Thranduil reached out and put a hand on Legolas’ shoulder,  
“It comes from your mother, from your Sylvan heritage. Your uncle Revion is also very sensitive to the song and your great-aunt Laurina.”

“They’re not as sensitive as I am though, are they?” Legolas said, resting his chin on his knee.

“No, they aren’t,” Thranduil said with an acquiescing nod, “But I’m sure Our Lord Eru Illuvatar has a reason for giving you this ability.”

Legolas rolled his eyes,  
“Oh, that makes me feel so much better, _Adar_.”

Thranduil shook his head,  
“And you’re still stressing, what’s wrong?”

“The Song,” Legolas said with a vague gesture eastwards, “It’s all tangled up with something and I can’t work out what it’s trying to tell me.”

Thranduil held out his hand,  
“Let me see. Maybe I can make sense of it for you.”

Legolas’ hand was warm, his palm and long fingers rough with calluses and tiny scars from his training. Thranduil closed his eyes, broadening his awareness and then honing in on the thread-like connection between him and his son. Legolas’ presence was coloured a warm sunshine gold, rippling and flickering like water or sunlight between trees.

_Okay, show me what you’re sensing…_

The gold flared slightly and then came the Song, pouring into Thranduil’s head like a river. The way Legolas felt the Song had always fascinated Thranduil; partly hearing, partly sight and partly something else that was sort of feeling, but with a more spiritual basis.

There was a warm red-gold light, pulsing with the colour of autumn leaves in the sun. A cool silvery-green presence and an icy-blue one very close together, some distance away. A mass of green in all different shades, pulsing and flickering like a flame yet somehow indescribably ‘home’.

 _I don’t know what it is..._ Legolas was clearly frustrated, _But it feels awful, like something rotten…_

Thranduil felt for where Legolas’ awareness was, where that bright sunshine gold was focussing,  
_Show me…_

And suddenly there it was. A horrible stain on the purity of the Song, corrupted and oily and just plain wrong.

Legolas shuddered violently, his gold presence trembling,  
_It feels so wrong, I don’t understand it…_

Thranduil let go of his son’s hand and forcibly re-entered his own head,  
“How long have you been sensing that?”

Legolas shook himself vigorously,  
“Since yesterday. I spent last night up here because I couldn’t sleep.” He fixed Thranduil with his silver gaze, “I don’t understand, _Adar_. What is it?”

“It is something we thought we dealt with a long time ago.” Thranduil said in a low voice, “We need to tell Oropher, Las. Come on.”

To his credit, Legolas didn’t question his father’s order. He just started climbing down. Once they reached the sturdier branches that began to reach into the other trees, the two of them took off along the branches, heading back towards the palace.

As they ran, Thranduil reached out to Oropher, searching for the silvery-green pulse that was the king’s spirit,  
_Adar, I found Las. We’re coming back to the palace now, but I’ve worked out why the Sylvans are all jumpy. Aranin, we have a problem…_

* * *

 

“Are you sure?” Oropher said in shock, “Only that’s a very serious claim to make, Thranduil.”

Thranduil sighed,  
“I wish I wasn’t, but when Legolas showed me what he’s been sensing since yesterday, everything suddenly made sense. This is what has been unsettling all the Sylvan elves, this is why Istuion and Tegalad are so jumpy at the moment. The Song has shifted and they’re all picking up on it.”

Oropher pinched the bridge of his nose,  
“This is the last thing we need. Legolas?”

From his position on the edge of Oropher’s desk, Legolas flinched violently and almost fell from his perch,  
“Huh?”

“Can you show me what you saw?”

Legolas nodded and Oropher came over to place his hands either side of his grandson’s head and touched his forehead to Legolas’.

Thranduil experienced a strange sensation as he felt Oropher and Legolas connect, a kind of echo through his head, but it only lasted a moment as Oropher pulled away abruptly.

“You were right, Thranduil. We do have a problem.”

Legolas looked from one to the other,  
“Will someone please tell me what is going on? I’m the one who’s been feeling this…whatever it is, shouldn’t I at least know what I’m feeling?”

Oropher sighed,  
“You know your history, Las. Better than your cousin. What do you think it is?”

Legolas’ brows drew together, then he looked up, his eyes going wide,  
“You don’t mean Sauron? But he has done nothing since before Erynion and I were born and I have not felt him in all that time. Why would he suddenly make his presence known now?”

Thranduil frowned,  
“That is a very good question. One that we don’t know the answer to, but I can have a good guess.”

Oropher sat down behind his desk, shaking his head,  
“All these years, I have been hoping that it would not come to this, that we would not come to war. I had hoped that it might not come until you and Ery were a little older.”

Legolas placed a hand on his grandfather’s shoulder,  
“If you think it will come to war, then how do we proceed?”

* * *

* * *

 

SA 3430  
_Legolas and Erynion are 62 years old._

 

“The Last Alliance?” Legolas said with a snort, “That’s their brilliant idea?”

Thranduil shrugged,  
“It was largely Gil-Galad’s idea, though I’m mostly blaming that prince of Gondor, what’s his name…”

“Isildur,” Oropher supplied. He was leaning against his desk with Erynion, a slight smirk quirking his lips as he listened to Legolas and Thranduil arguing furiously.

Legolas rounded on his grandfather,  
“You’re not completely blameless in this either, _Daeradar_. How in the name of the Valar is taking the fight to Mordor going to help solve the problem?”

Oropher sighed,  
“It wasn’t my idea, Legolas. You try telling Gil-Galad to back down from a fight, I swear that _ellon’s_ half-Dwarf or something, he’s about as hard-headed as one.”

Legolas folded his arms, grumbling half to himself,  
“Maybe next time I will.”

Erynion placed a placating hand on his cousin’s shoulder,  
“Peace, Las. What’s done is done, now we need to decide how we act on it.”

Oropher started pacing,  
“Erynion is right, even though my heart tells me this is not the right way. The Woodland Realm is part of the Last Alliance and so we must send a force to Mordor. As king, I am duty bound to go.”

“Besides being Crown Prince, I am also Commander of the Border Guard, so I have to go,” Thranduil said, “Legolas, you’re easily one of our best archers.”

Legolas held up a hand to stop his father,  
“No, _Adar_. It is folly to send all three of us to war, one of us must stay behind to secure the throne. As the last in line, I will stay here.”

Thranduil opened his mouth but Oropher got in first,  
“He has a point, Thranduil. We have to prepare for the worst. Legolas has been tutored in everything he needs to know to rule the kingdom. If something happens to the pair of us, he’ll take the throne.”

Erynion bit his lip,  
“You think the worst will happen, _Daeradar_?”

Oropher shook his head,  
“I honestly don’t know. But we have to assume that it will, and make preparations accordingly.”

* * *

* * *

 

SA 3433  
_Legolas and Erynion are 65 years old._

 

The army were assembling in front of the palace, ready to march for war. Greenwood’s King, Crown Prince and Child Prince stood to one side, watching the troops form up.

“I don’t like this,” Legolas said quietly.

Thranduil patted his shoulder,  
“I know, but we have no choice. We have to defend our lands and our people.”

Legolas folded his arms and looked away,  
“I know, _Adar_. Just…”

“Thranduil,” Oropher interrupted, “Go and oversee the troops. Make sure all the officers know their assignments.”

As Thranduil left to oversee final preparations, Oropher turned to Legolas,  
“There’s something you’re hiding from us, I can sense it.”

Legolas bit his lip,  
“You know I don’t have foresight like Elrond…”

“No,” Oropher said gently, “But you feel things in the Song much more keenly than we do.”

Legolas shook his head,  
“There’s something in the Song, but it’s hidden from me. All I know is that darkness is coming.”

Oropher gave him a tight smile,  
“We all know that, Las. It’s our job to make sure the darkness does not spread. We have to go.”

“I know,” Legolas said, softly, “But I still don’t like it.”

Thranduil came back over to them,  
“Troops are all assembled, _Aranin_. Everything’s ready.”

Oropher nodded,  
“Right, let’s get this over with. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can deal with this threat and get back home.”

As they both turned to mount their horses and ride off, Legolas flung himself at them,  
“I love you both. Come back to me safely, _Adar, Daeradar_. Please…”

Oropher and Thranduil both turned to hug Legolas,  
“We love you too, Las.”  
“We’ll do our best, Greenleaf.”

* * *

 

As the army moved off, Thranduil turned back in the saddle to wave to Legolas, who stood with Erynion on the palace steps. The early morning sunlight streaming through the trees caught in his son’s hair, turning it to liquid gold.

_Come back to me safely, Adar, Daeradar. Please…_

“Relax, Thranduil, he’ll be fine.”

Thranduil looked sideways at Oropher,  
“I worry about him, that’s all. You saw what happened when Alassiel died, he lost his mind. What if something happens to one of us, or worse, both of us?”

Oropher sighed,  
“I know you worry, _ionin_ , but we have no choice. We ride for war, at least we can be certain that the Greenwood’s throne is secure in the hands of our Child Prince.”

“He’s not a child anymore, _Adar_. He’s a fully-fledged warrior, a brilliant strategist and the best archer the Greenwood has ever seen.”

“Precisely,” Oropher said, “Legolas is more than capable of taking care of everything while we’re gone.”

* * *

 

Erynion placed a comforting hand on his cousin’s back,  
“They’ll come back, Las.”

Legolas gave Erynion a searching look, his silver eyes faraway and lost,  
“And if they don’t?”

“We have to hope that they will. Without hope we have nothing.”

“I know,” Legolas said softly, “But what if the worst should happen, Ery? What if they don’t come back?”

Erynion gripped Legolas by the shoulders and leaned in so their foreheads touched,  
“You are the prince of our people, the heir to the throne and our beloved Greenleaf.” He brought Legolas’ head down and kissed his cousin’s brow, “More than that, you are my cousin, you are like a brother to me and I will follow you to whatever end.”

* * *

* * *

 

SA 3434  
_Legolas and Erynion are 66 years old, the equivalent of 18-19 year old humans._

 

Erynion should have seen it coming from a mile away. He’d gone downstairs for less than five minutes, leaving Legolas in their grandfather’s study with a pile of reports. What he saw when he came back into the room made him sigh sadly.

The gold-haired prince had his arms on the tabletop, his head on his arms and was clearly falling asleep just sitting there.

“Las,” Erynion said gently, not wishing to startle his cousin.

Legolas blinked sleepily and sat up,  
“Ery, what’s wrong?”

Erynion smiled,  
“Nothing, but I think you fell asleep.” He gestured to the heap of reports on the desk, “Did you want to take a break and have some lunch?”

“No,” Was the short reply.

Erynion sighed,  
“Las, please. This isn’t helping anyone, your father wouldn’t want to see you like this…”

But as soon as he said it, Erynion knew he’d gone too far. The prince’s silver eyes locked with his, and Legolas flinched,  
“My father wouldn’t want to see me like this…” He whispered, “What fool in their right mind would ever want me in any state? What use am I to anyone?”

Erynion winced,  
“That’s not what I meant, Las. I only meant…”

“I know what you meant,” Legolas said, “You mean that I am a burden on everyone. My mother’s death proved that, I ran from it, left my father to deal with it on his own, what sort of son does that?”

“A son who would rather suffer in silence than let anyone see he is in pain,” Erynion said, “Las, please, let me help you.”

Legolas shook his head,  
“You can’t help me, Ery. No-one can.”

Erynion growled in frustration,  
“I could if you would just let me…”

“No, Ery,” Legolas snapped, all the tension and stress of the past few weeks hunching his shoulders and bringing a nasty feral light into his usually calm silver eyes, “I will not let you help me, because you cannot help me. And I refuse to have anyone try when all they will do is fail.”

“But…”

Legolas tensed all over, baring his teeth. There was something horribly twisted and animalistic about his behaviour these days. The Child Prince hissed,  
“Drop it, Ery. You cannot help me and I will not let you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need some fresh air.”

And just like that, he was gone. Straight out the open window and vanishing among the trees.

Erynion closed his eyes and sat down hard on the floor, with none of the grace of his people.

“Ery?” A soft female voice came from the door.

Erynion opened his eyes to look at Princess Siladhiel, her brown hair neatly braided and her blue-grey eyes wide with concern,  
“ _Naneth_ , what are you doing here?”

Siladhiel knelt gracefully at his side,  
“You are my only child, _ionin_. We may not share the powerful bond that Thranduil and Legolas have with each other, but our bond is still there. I can always feel when you’re upset, darling.” She brushed a strand of his silver-blond hair out of his face, “What happened?”

Erynion rested his chin on his knees,  
“Las and I had a fight.”

“Are we talking a fight in normal terms or one in yours?”

“Ours, I guess. I don’t think we could ever fight with each other properly. I’m just so worried about him, _Naneth_.” Erynion bit his lip hard, fighting back tears, “He’s not eating, not sleeping, he’s running himself into the ground trying to keep on top of everything, he keeps snapping at people. It’s scaring me that I might lose him.”

Siladhiel hugged him tightly,  
“Your cousin is stubborn, Ery. Just like his father and your grandfather. He will pull through this, I know. No matter what the outcome of this war is, your cousin will survive.”

Erynion sighed,  
“I know, _Naneth_.” He turned his gaze out the window where Legolas had vanished, “But part of me wonders whether Legolas surviving is better than him dying. There’s a darkness in his mind, I can feel it, and all this stress is causing it to spread.”

Siladhiel kissed his cheek,  
“The best advice I can give you, darling, is just to be there for him, support him, be nothing other than who you are now.” She smiled gently at him, “I know you hate fighting with him, and I know that it hurts, but sometimes it’s the only way to give him an escape because Eru knows he will not take it otherwise.”

Erynion nodded,  
“I’ll bear that in mind. Thank you.”

Siladhiel rose gracefully to her feet,  
“Anytime, _ionin_. And I wouldn’t go looking for your cousin either, he’ll be found when he wants to be.”

“I know. That’s the part that worries me.”

* * *

 

Evening came and night fell and there was still no sign of Legolas. Erynion lay in bed, staring out the window. Legolas was stubborn, true enough, but so was he. He needed to find his cousin and talk to him, before Legolas did some serious damage. To himself.

Studiously ignoring his mother’s advice, as most young males are wont to do, Erynion climbed out of bed and redressed, pulling on his lightest pair of boots. Then he opened the window and slipped out into the darkened forest.

Weaving his way between the trees, Erynion shivered. He was wearing thicker clothes and a short cloak, but Legolas had left wearing only a light linen shirt and leggings. _  
I hope Las is alright._

Although he wasn’t anywhere near as skilled as Legolas, Erynion could read the Song and therefore follow his cousin’s gold thread. It took him a very long time to find its ending though.

Legolas was right up the top of the tallest tree in the whole of the Greenwood; not the Lookout Tree, but a huge pine on their far eastern border. The prince was shivering violently, tear tracks shining on his pale cheeks, his gold hair tangled in the chill night wind.

“Las…” Erynion called softly.

Legolas just shivered and didn’t respond.

Erynion tried again, “Legolas?”

“Mmm…”

“You okay?”

Legolas’ voice was so soft that Erynion only just heard it,  
“Not really…”

Erynion sighed as he watched Legolas shivering,  
“What am I going to do with you?” He climbed up next to his cousin and wrapped his cloak securely around them both, pulling Legolas back against his chest, “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

“What’s wrong with me, Ery? I d-don’t know what’s wrong with m-me,” Legolas managed through chattering teeth.

 Erynion was glad that Legolas had his back to him, it meant he didn’t have to hide the sorrow he felt at his cousin’s confession,  
“Then let me help you, Las. Not for our people or the kingdom, but for you. Let me help you, for your own sake.”

Legolas turned slightly so he could burrow further into Erynion’s embrace,  
“Thank you, Ery. And I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I…wasn’t thinking straight.”

“You haven’t been for the past few days,” Erynion said as gently as possible, “What’s bothering you?”

Legolas made a vague gesture eastwards,  
“The Last Alliance has engaged the enemy. Blood has been spilled on Dagorlad’s fields and the sky will burn before this ends.” He winced, “It hurts, Ery.”

Erynion kissed Legolas’ cheek,  
“What does?”

Legolas’ silver eyes were full of starlight as he stared into the East,  
“The Song, it burns in all the wrong places.”

They sat there together in silence, Erynion with his arms around Legolas and his chin tucked over his cousin’s shoulder. Above them, the stars turned through their slow dance and the eastern sky began to colour as the sun started its newest journey across the sky.

Legolas had started drifting off to sleep and Erynion was content to let him, at least for the time being. Having to cope with King Oropher’s workload and most of Prince Thranduil’s on top of his own was taking its toll on the Child Prince. He went about his day with a vague expression on his face and the glazed look that his eyes only held when he was really tired.

Erynion was tired too. Trying to manage whatever Legolas couldn’t deal with, as well as his own duties was taxing enough, but he was also trying to keep his cousin from collapsing. Being able to just sit in silence was a welcome experience for both of them.

* * *

 

“Any news from the East?”

Legolas, seated once again behind Oropher’s huge desk, shook his head,  
“Nothing. But I think no news is good news at this point.”

Erynion sighed,  
“I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I,” Legolas said, “But there’s not a lot we can do about it. We just have to keep soldiering on and hold down the fort here. I would not put it past the enemy to mount a sneak attack on the Greenwood while most of our army is away fighting in the East.”

Erynion just snorted,  
“That would be just typical, wouldn’t it?”

Legolas was about to make a suitably cutting remark when he suddenly went completely rigid, his head snapping back, mouth falling open, his vision blurring into gold…

* * *

 

_Oropher stumbled as he felt a sudden sharp pain lance through his abdomen. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Thranduil stand swaying, then the Crown Prince collapsed in a boneless heap._

_“No…” Oropher breathed, “Ionin…”_

_It was but the work of a few moments to fight his way to Thranduil’s side. A pool of blood was already forming under Thranduil’s body, seeping into the marshy ground. The Crown Prince was not moving._

_Oropher knelt and felt under the collar Thranduil’s armour for a pulse. There was a brief moment when he felt his heart stop, then he found it. Weak and fluttery, but Thranduil was still alive. And rising from the mud again was the hideous creature that had felled his son._

_Anyone looking into the eyes of the King then would have trembled, for his normally grey eyes had turned to brilliant silver, shining like stars, burning with cold fire. He bared his teeth in a menacing snarl, daring the orc to advance._

_How long he stood there, battling any foe who tried to approach his fallen son, Oropher did not know. But the enemy was relentless and a single elf cannot keep an ocean at bay forever. Eventually he stumbled, his knees sinking into the mud as he fell._

_“To the king!”_

_“Protect the king!”_

_The shouts rang in his ears, but all Oropher could hear was the voice of his grandson,  
“Come back to me safely, Adar, Daeradar. Please…”_

_And all he could manage was,  
“Las, my Greenleaf, my prince… I am sorry…”_

_And all he could see was the face of his son, eyes closed and blood soaking his hair…_

* * *

 

“No!” Legolas snapped out of his trance with a sickening jerk.

Erynion caught him as he fell,  
“Las, what happened? What in the Valar’s name was that?”

Legolas’ grey eyes were focussed on nothing, tears streaking his fair face,  
“No…” He looked up at his cousin, shock and pain and grief staining his features, “ _Daeradar_ …”

“Something went wrong?” Erynion asked urgently.

What came out of his cousin’s mouth then, nothing could have prepared Erynion for it.

“The King is dead…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said at the beginning, I've had to split this in half, because it was heading on for 7000 words and wasn't anywhere near finished. Hopefully it wasn't too upsetting, and as always, any comments or constructive criticism is much appreciated. Come yell at me on tumblr: sebastianthegiraffe
> 
> The Elvish either comes from Hiswelókë (online) or Ambar Eldaron (which can be downloaded as an ebook). I also use the Sindarin Phrasebook by slarmstrong (tumblr user) because it has some other useful phrases that the dictionaries don't.  
> Ionin- My son  
> Adar- Father  
> Daeradar- Grandfather  
> Ellon- Male elf  
> Aranin- My king  
> Naneth- Mother
> 
> Next chapter: The survivors from Dagorlad return and the Greenwood must pick up the pieces and learn to live under a new king.
> 
> Tschüs!


	4. The Crown Must Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: All Leaves Fall  
> The Forces of Mordor attack and the Last Alliance is formed. The Greenwood's forces leave to fight in the war.
> 
> This Chapter:  
> The survivors from Dagorlad return and the Greenwood must pick up the pieces and learn to live under a new king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this story has been going for a year but I haven't updated since February, which is quite frankly terrible and I really have no excuse except for lack of motivation and general laziness. But it's done now.  
> As with last chapter, mentions of death and descriptions of unhealthy coping mechanisms.  
> Please, if you are going through something similar, find someone you can talk to, even if it's just crying on their shoulder for an hour. It helps, trust me.  
> Please tread carefully, my darlings.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

* * *

 

SA 3435  
_Legolas is 67, Erynion is 66._

 

“Still not sleeping?”

“No, I can’t. Every time I close my eyes, I see it.”

Erynion tucked a stray lock of fine silvery hair behind his ear,  
“It’s the waiting that’s the worst. We know that _Daeradar_ is gone, but Thranduil…”

“May still be alive,” Legolas finished, “It’s a slim chance, but it’s the only hope we have. I can’t lose faith, Ery, I can’t. If I lose faith that _Adar_ may still be alive, then I fear I will fade and our kingdom fail.”

Erynion gripped his cousin’s forearms fiercely,  
“That will not happen, Las. Our people are survivors and that is exactly what we will do. We will survive.”

Legolas returned the grip, touching his forehead to Erynion’s,  
“We will survive.”

“My lords?”

Legolas turned,  
“We’re not your lords, _Tôrenaneth_.” He gave Lord Istuion a tired smile as the older elf hovered in the doorway, “Any news?”

Istuion nodded,  
“The warriors from Dagorlad. They have returned.”

Legolas and Erynion exchanged glances, a flicker of apprehension passing between them.

It was Legolas who spoke first,  
“Then if they have returned, we must go and welcome them home.”

* * *

 

“Sit down, Princeling. For Valar’s sake, you’ve been on your feet for hours.”

Legolas blinked tiredly up at his grandfather Lairelandon,  
“Sorry, _Daeradar_. I was miles away.”

Lairelandon brushed a loose strand of gold out of his grandson’s face,  
“I could see that. I take it the healers still have not emerged with news of your father.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Legolas admitted with a heavy sigh, “I’ve been with the families of the fallen, trying to offer comfort in any way I can.”

Lairelandon pulled Legolas into an embrace, allowing the younger elf to rest against his shoulder,  
“Your presence alone is doing more than you think. All our kingdom knows how hard you’re working at the moment, you are allowed to take time for yourself.”

Legolas slumped into his grandfather’s arms,  
“I can’t. I have too much to do. With the king now dead, I am the current ruler of the Greenwood, until such time as _Adar_ is deemed fit for duty again. And I do not know when, if ever, that will be.”

“His injuries are that bad?”

Legolas let Lairelandon guide him to a chair,  
“I honestly don’t know. I didn’t see much when it happened.”

Lairelandon blinked,  
“You saw it? How?”

Legolas shrugged,  
“The Song, I think. Sometimes it shows me things before they happen or as they happen. I saw the moment when Thranduil fell. Oropher died defending him and I saw it. I felt it…” He trailed off and stared at the far wall, furiously blinking back tears.

“Oh, Las,” Lairelandon said gently, pulling the younger elf close and kissing his forehead, “The Song runs deep in our bloodline, all of us can feel it, but there are some who it touches more than others. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but to be so in tune with the Song is a blessing. A blessing disguised as a curse perhaps, but there may come a day when it will save your life.”

Legolas managed a small smile,  
“Then I shall put my trust in the Song, for all the pain it may cause me.”

Lairelandon cupped Legolas’ chin in one hand, rubbing his thumb along the Child Prince’s sharp cheekbone,  
“That’s my Greenleaf.”

* * *

 

Erynion sighed sadly as he entered Oropher’s study to find Legolas asleep across the desk, his hand still gripping the pen he’d been using.

“Oh, Legolas. What are we going to do with you?”

Legolas stirred a little as Erynion carefully extracted him from the chair,  
“Ery?”

Erynion kissed his cousin’s forehead,  
“I’m here, Las. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Legolas protested weakly,  
“No, Ery. I can’t go to bed, I have too much work to do.”

Erynion wasn’t having it,  
“No excuses, Las. You’re no good to any of us if you collapse, come on.”

“Fine,” Legolas mumbled, clearly too tired to argue further, “Bed it is.”

“Have you seen your father yet?” Erynion asked cautiously.

Legolas shrugged,  
“Only briefly, but it didn’t look good. The healers said there’s nothing they can do now except let him sleep and hope he pulls through.” He stumbled slightly and leaned against the wall, yawning widely, “Valar, I’m tired.”

Erynion wrapped an arm around his cousin’s waist,  
“And that, dear cousin, is precisely why you need to go to bed.”

* * *

* * *

 

SA 3435  
_Legolas and Erynion are 67, the equivalent of 18-19 year old humans._

 

Thranduil came to slowly. The first thing he was aware of was a dull throbbing ache in his abdomen and a horrible empty hollow in his chest. Then there was a golden light, soft at first but growing stronger and brighter as his senses came back to themselves. Thranduil opened his eyes, squinting against the glare. He was lying in his room, in bed, the soft light of dawn just beginning to make itself known through the curtains. Sitting up gingerly, the king winced.

Soft breathing reached his ears and he turned as best as he could. There was a chair next to the bed and seated in it, curled up like a cat and apparently fast asleep, was Legolas. The prince looked exhausted, gaunt and pale with dark circles under his eyes. His golden hair was escaping from its braids and his clothes looked rumpled and slept in. He was curled up in such a way that his right arm was tucked into the curve of his stomach, but Thranduil could see the bright white bandage strapped around his son’s forearm. He stretched out, taking Legolas’ uninjured hand in his and gently stroking the back of it with his thumb.

Legolas shifted, muttering under his breath, then he blinked and sat up. Thranduil’s heart almost broke at the sadness and pain present in his son’s soft grey eyes.

Legolas smiled sadly,  
“Welcome back to the land of the living, _Adar_.”

Thranduil groaned,  
“Can’t I stay where I was?”

Legolas chuckled briefly, then he was all seriousness again,  
“Unfortunately not. We’re in lockdown and the people need their King.”

Something in the way he said it made Thranduil freeze,  
“Oropher?”

Legolas bit his lip then he broke down in tears,  
“I’m sorry, _Adar_ … They brought him back dead…and we were so worried you would die too…but Mandos spared you…for which I am grateful…” He swallowed hard and got himself back under control, “Here, you can have your ring back now.” He took the king’s signet ring off his finger and replaced it on his father’s.

Thranduil stared at it,  
“Why were you wearing it?”

Legolas wiped his eyes on his sleeve,  
“Because _Daeradar_ is dead and no-one knew for certain if you would live, so I was preparing to take the throne. I actually would have been crowned today if you hadn’t woken up briefly yesterday. So thank you for that, although Ery was quite disappointed that he couldn’t have a cousin who became the youngest Elven king in recorded history.” He smiled at that.

Thranduil sighed,  
“So, I’m king then?”

Legolas nodded sadly,  
“I’m afraid so. Surely your heart told you that.”

“How long?” Thranduil asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

Legolas supplied it anyway,  
“It is exactly seven months to the day that you left home for war. You came back about a month and half ago. _Daeradar’s_ funeral was two weeks after that.”

Thranduil squeezed his son’s hand,  
“Are you okay?”

Legolas shrugged,  
“Not really. Like I said, I would have been crowned king today. Long live King Legolas and all that, not that I wanted it, any of this.”

Thranduil sat up straighter, wincing,  
“Do you think I want to be king? I wake up to find my father dead and my son telling me I’m now king.” Something feral flashed through Legolas’ eyes and Thranduil suddenly realised how draining the past seven months had been for him.

The prince hissed,  
“Do you think I want you to be king? Believe me, I would much rather Oropher were still alive and ruling Mirkwood, but he isn’t.” He stood up abruptly, tears shining in his eyes, “I’ll leave you to sleep.”

As he left, Siladhiel came in with Istuion. Siladhiel looked surprised,  
“What happened, _Tôr_?”

Thranduil lay back on the pillows,  
“I got a bit snappy with him.”

Istuion sighed,  
“I know it’s hard for you to accept that you’re now king, Thranduil, but be gentle with Legolas. He’s been struggling since the funeral. And he’s injured, you know that never helps.”

“Yes, his wrist. What happened?” Thranduil asked.

Siladhiel explained,  
“It’s a stress fracture. He’s been running himself into the ground since you went away, covering his duties, your duties and half of Oropher’s, organising patrols, keeping on top of finances. Too much writing, not enough rest, the healers said.”

* * *

 

Erynion didn’t think he would ever understand how Legolas managed it. Amidst all the chaos and stress and panic following the return of the Last Alliance, the news of Oropher’s death, Queen Linnadhiel’s subsequent passing and Thranduil’s eventual recovery. Somehow, Legolas maintained a stoic façade through it all, never faltering, never wavering, his fair face never changing from a blank expression. He didn’t cry, didn’t smile, didn’t really show any emotion at all.

It was honestly a little unnerving…

“How is he doing it?” Erynion asked his uncle one evening, having watched Legolas go an entire day without changing his facial expression once.

Thranduil didn’t even have to ask who he meant,  
“He’s gone, Ery. He might be here physically, but mentally his mind has completely shut down. It’s like he’s built a wall between himself and his emotions, he’s maintaining enough mental capacity to manage all his duties but he’s not actively thinking beyond that.”

They both fell quiet as Legolas came into the study, with an armful of papers. He deposited them on the desk and began sorting them into piles.

“What are all these, Las?” Thranduil asked, staring in shock at the paper mountains that were steadily building on his desk.

Legolas didn’t look up as he replied,  
“Correspondence from various realms. This pile is responses to the coronation invitations, this one is messages of condolence, things with questions in them that need answering, ones that can be answered with a generic reply, a stack of templates for said generic reply and this last one is reports that just need your signature.” The whole list was delivered in the flat emotionless tone that Legolas had been using since Thranduil woke from his coma.

Thranduil and Erynion exchanged worried glances as Legolas finished sorting, bowed neatly and left the room.

Erynion shuddered,  
“It’s horrible, _Tôrenaneth_. That awful glassy look in his eyes gives me the creeps.”

Thranduil squeezed Erynion’s hand comfortingly,  
“Take heart, Erynion. This will pass, I am sure of it. We just need to be ready to catch him when he falls.”

“We may catch him,” Erynion muttered darkly, “There’s no guarantee that he’ll still be intact when we do.”

* * *

* * *

 

SA 3436  
_Legolas is 68, Erynion is 67._

 

“I hereby crown you King Thranduil Urúvion Oropherion, the Elvenking of the Greenwood, King of the Woodland Realm and Lord of the Northern Forests.”

Lord Meldarion, the Head of the Greenwood Council and one of both Thranduil and Oropher’s long-time advisors, carefully settled the crown on Thranduil’s head. It was simple in its making, yet dramatic in its design, a halo of spiked branches worked in antler and decorated with jewelled leaves. A crown fit for a king of forests.

Thranduil rose from his kneeling position, shifting his balance a little to compensate for the heavy crown he now wore.

The gathered elves all dropped to one knee and bowed, a deafening chorus rising from their lips,  
“Long live the King!”

Thranduil felt a single tear slip down his cheek. If only his beloved Alassiel could have been here for this.

As the assembled folk stood as one and began to make their way towards to hall and the feast that awaited, the Greenwood’s new king turned to where his son and nephew waited, the rest of the family having been in the main audience. But as his eyes fell on them, he threw off his robes in a most unkingly manner and hurried forwards.

“Las, _ionin_ , what’s wrong?”

Where all the other elves had risen to their feet, Legolas had remained kneeling, his eyes glazed over and staring off into the distance. He didn’t seem to be aware of anything, not even Erynion’s hand gripping his elbow and helping him to standing.

Thranduil cupped one hand around the prince’s chin and rubbed his thumb across Legolas’ cheekbone,  
“Las? Greenleaf?”

“…dar?” Legolas managed, his voice sounding broken. He blinked dazedly, something akin to pain and strangely relief passing over his fair face, then he gave a soft little sigh and collapsed.

Having seen Legolas’ eyes flutter closed, Thranduil managed to catch his son before he dropped to the floor, swinging him up into his arms, so one arm was under the prince’s knees and the other around his back.  
“By the Valar, I was not expecting him to just faint like that. It’s alright, Ery, I’ve got him, but does he feel warm to you?”

Erynion, who had dived forwards at the same time as Thranduil, rested the back of one hand against Legolas’ forehead,  
“He doesn’t feel feverish, _Tôrenaneth_. If anything, he feels cold.” He bent down and scooped Thranduil’s robes off the floor, “Do you want to carry him, or shall I?”

Thranduil adjusted his grip slightly,  
“I’ll take him, Ery. Go and find your mother. Tell her Legolas has just collapsed but we don’t know why. I’m staying with him until we get a healer to him, but she’ll need to stall for a little while at least. And then see if you can find the healer Nestarion. Bring him upstairs.”

“Of course, _Tôrenaneth_ ,” Erynion said, “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

* * *

 

Thranduil carried Legolas upstairs by the back passageways and laid him gently on the bed in the Royal Suite, rather than the prince’s own room. Legolas’ breathing was slow and steady; to all intents and purposes he appeared to be merely asleep. But Erynion had been right in that his skin felt cold to the touch, not quite icy but certainly cooler than usual and enough of a difference as to be concerning.

“Oh, Las, my Greenleaf,” Thranduil sighed, running his fingers through Legolas’ fine gold hair, “What have you been doing to yourself?”

“ _Aranin_?”

At the voice, Thranduil turned. Nestarion, the leader of the Healer’s Guild, stood in the doorway, his healer’s satchel slung over one shoulder.

Thranduil smiled at his long-time friend,  
“No need for that, Nes, I was your friend and your brother-in-arms before I was your king or even your prince.”

Nestarion returned the smile,  
“If you insist, Thran.” He moved over to the bed and laid a hand on Legolas’ forehead,  
“What happened? Lord Erynion’s explanation was a bit jumbled and then he flew off in search of Princess Siladhiel.”

“He hadn’t stood back up from kneeling after the ceremony, then when Erynion and I got him standing, he passed out.”

“Hmm,” Nestarion murmured, checking the prince’s vital signs, “His breathing and heart rate are fine, he’s a little cold but I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”

Thranduil sighed heavily,  
“From what everyone’s been telling me about what happened since we left for war, I think he’s probably just reached the point where his body just gave out.”

Nestarion nodded,  
“That would be my guess, yes. The only advice I can offer is to just let him rest as long as his body needs it, though I have no idea what state he might be in when he wakes up.”

“Rest,” Thranduil said wistfully, “I wish for some myself, but alas…”

“Your duties would prevent you from such?” Nestarion finished. He smiled, “If it would make you feel better, I can stay up here with him until your duties for the evening are complete.”

Thranduil clasped Nestarion’s forearm,  
“Thank you, _gwadornin._ ”

Nestarion returned the grip,  
“Of course, _gwadornin.”_

Thranduil pressed one last gentle kiss to Legolas’ brow, then he left the room.

* * *

 

By the time Thranduil had dealt with the feasting part of his coronation and could escape upstairs again, it was long past nightfall. He stood in the entrance hallway, making a few final farewells to elves who had come specially for the coronation.

Siladhiel caught his gaze and made her way towards him,  
“Well done _t_ _ôrnin._ Your duties as king are finished for today.” She gestured towards the stairs, “Go, go to him.”

Thranduil kissed her cheek,  
“Thank you, _th_ _êlnin.”_

Then he turned and hurried off towards the stairs. Towards his son.

Legolas was still unconscious, but someone had changed him out of his ceremonial clothes, braided his hair out of his face and laid him under the blankets.

Thranduil removed his robes and set his new crown upon its special stand. Then he took off his boots and rummaged through his wardrobe to find suitable clothes to sleep in.

“ _Tôrenaneth_?”

Now dressed in leggings and a loose tunic, Thranduil turned,  
“Erynion? I assume you’re responsible for getting Las settled.”

Erynion blinked sleepily,  
“Mhmm. Will you stay with him?”

Thranduil cupped his nephew’s chin in both hands and kissed his brow,  
“Of course I will. You go and get some sleep, Ery. You look like you need it.”

Erynion kissed Thranduil’s cheek in return,  
“You too, _Tôrenaneth_. Look after Las, but look after yourself too.”

After Erynion left, Thranduil slid into bed, wrapping his arms protectively around Legolas and pulling the prince’s head to rest on his chest. He dropped a gentle kiss on his son’s forehead, whispering a quiet prayer.

“To any Valar that might listen, bring him back to him, keep him safe. I have lost so much, I cannot lose him too.”

Then he closed his eyes and let sleep claim him.

* * *

 

When sleep let go, Thranduil woke slowly, feeling warmer than when he fell asleep. Opening his eyes, he was met with fine gold hair under his chin, where Legolas had curled in closer to the warmth. On Legolas’ other side, one arm slung over his cousin’s waist, was Erynion.

The younger ellon was fast asleep, curled into Thranduil’s shoulder, so Legolas was nestled between them. Thranduil sighed fondly and reached out to run a hand through Erynion’s hair, the silver-blonde colour almost identical to his own. Erynion mumbled in his sleep, the arm around Legolas’ stomach tightening slightly.

Legolas didn’t respond.

Erynion shifted again, mumbling under his breath, but Thranduil ran a hand through his hair again,  
“Hush, Ery. You’re alright, Las is okay.”

At the mention of Legolas, Erynion sighed softly and settled again. One icy blue eye opened to gaze at Thranduil,  
“Morning, _Tôrenaneth_ …”

“Good morning, _Thêlion_. Did you sleep well?”

Erynion hummed softly,  
“For the most part. I woke up and felt cold, though it was not a cold of my own.”

Thranduil nodded,  
“You felt Legolas. Your bond with each other has always been strong, maybe your presence will help him with whatever illness this is.”

“I do not think this is an ordinary illness, _Tôrenaneth_.” Erynion said with a frown.

“Not all illness is the physical kind, Ery.”

* * *

 

Thranduil didn’t particularly want to get out of bed, but Erynion had assured him that he would stay with Legolas all day and send someone to fetch Thranduil if anything happened, good or bad.

So, satisfied that his son was in safe hands, Thranduil dragged himself out of bed and started his day. Oropher had always insisted that Thranduil and his sister Siladhiel, and then later their children, were able to get themselves up and dressed without needing the help of servants. There were times when Thranduil had detested this practice, usually as an exhausted grumpy adolescent, but he had to admit it was nice to have his mornings to himself.

Especially today.

It allowed him to get himself ready for the day in his own time, stumbling around in the half-light of dawn without worrying about anyone seeing him. It allowed him to listen to Erynion’s soft murmurings to his cousin, regardless of whether Legolas was awake to hear him.

Robes in place and crown firmly situated on his head, Thranduil returned to his bedroom. Erynion was sitting up slightly, redoing his braids. Legolas was still unconscious, his breathing steady and even, as he lay curled up against Erynion’s abdomen.

“ _Tôrenaneth_ , he’ll be fine,” Erynion said with a small smile.

Thranduil sighed,  
“I know. I just don’t want to leave him.”

Erynion regarded Thranduil, his icy blue eyes sharp and warm all at once,  
“I will be by his side all day, and if at any point I have to leave, I will send for my mother and she will stay with him until I come back.”

Thranduil took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then released it in a rush,  
“Thank you, Ery. Knowing he’s in safe hands will help me, I think.”

He leaned over and kissed first Erynion’s forehead, then Legolas’.

Legolas didn’t respond, still in the depths of unconsciousness, but Erynion hummed softly,  
“Have a good day, _Tôrenaneth_. Try not to stress about Las too much, I’ll look after him.”

“I know you will, _Thêlion_.” Thranduil replied, then he left the room and headed for his study.

* * *

 

“Any change, _tôrnin_?”

Thranduil sighed,  
“No, _thêlnin_ , but no change is still better than a bad one.”

Siladhiel nodded,  
“I suppose. I haven’t seen my son yet today, but I take it he’s looking after Las, else you would not be here.”

“You know me too well, Sil,” Thranduil said with a small smile, “Were it not for Erynion, I would not have risen from my bed this morning.”

Siladhiel scanned the contents of Thranduil’s desk,  
“Would you like some help with your paperwork, Thran? That you might return to Legolas’ side sooner.”

Thranduil gestured to the neatly piled documents,  
“Actually, Tegalad and Istuion came by earlier and helped me sort most of it out.” He smiled at his little sister, reaching out to smooth the flyaway strands of her long brown hair, “Though I would never refuse your company, my lady.”

Siladhiel kissed his cheek,  
“I could never say no to the king.”

Despite all his worries about Legolas, Thranduil was still glad to be in his sister’s company. There were fifty-two years between them, but such numbers were insignificant to elves, and as such, they’d grown up very close. Siladhiel had spent a fair few of her adolescent years worrying incessantly while Thranduil and Oropher fought in the War of Wrath. She had lingered by his bedside, tending to his horrific injuries following the war, helping him manage his day-to-day life until he got used to being blind in one eye.

Yes, Thranduil mused to himself, watching Siladhiel busy herself with a stack of papers that needed sorting, he was always glad to spend time in his sister’s company.

 Sometime in the early evening, Thranduil became aware of a warm gold presence in the back of his mind. It took him a moment to place, then he was off and running.

Left with the now mostly sorted paperwork, Siladhiel smiled. She knew exactly what had caused her brother to go flying off like a startled rabbit, and she made a mental note to go up and visit him later.

* * *

 

Thranduil skidded to a halt at the door, his robes swirling around him and his crown almost falling off,  
“Ai, Valar…”

Erynion was sitting on the bed, stroking Legolas’ fine gold hair as he spoke softly to his cousin. He gave Thranduil a bright smile over the top of the prince’s head, beckoning Thranduil into the room, as the king hovered in the doorway.

Legolas looked terrible, exhausted and drained, but he was smiling up at Erynion and as Thranduil stepped into the room, he turned that brilliant smile towards his father,  
“ _Adar_ ,” His voice was hoarse from sleep and disuse, but his eyes were as bright and warm as ever.

Erynion slid off the bed, grinning broadly,  
“I’ll leave you two alone, I think. Was _Naneth_ with you, _Tôrenaneth_?”

“She was in my study,” Thranduil replied, just as Legolas said,  
“She’s in the study.”

Erynion shook his head in fond exasperation and leaned over to hug Legolas tightly,  
“I’ll never understand how you do that so easily. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” Legolas said, returning the embrace.

As Erynion left the room, Thranduil knelt on the bed and wrapped both arms securely around his son, pressing kisses into his hair,  
“Ai, Legolas, my Greenleaf. Thank the Valar you’re alright. You scared me, leafling.”

Legolas sighed softly,  
“I am sorry for scaring you, _Adar_. I would say I won’t do it again, but I can’t promise anything.”

“I care not for your promises, Las,” Thranduil murmured, “I care only that you have come back to me, that by the grace of the Valar I have not lost you.”

Legolas reached up, pulling Thranduil down until he could kiss his father’s forehead. The prince’s silver eyes were clear and bright, shining with the subtle strength that Thranduil had come to admire in his only child, the same strength he used to see in his own father Oropher,  
“I swear to you, a _darnin, aranin,_ as long as I have power over my own spirit, you will not lose me.”

Thranduil rested his forehead gently against Legolas’, feeling their breathing naturally falling into synchronisation,  
“I have you back now, that is all that matters. _Gin melin, ionin.”_

 _“Gin melin, adarnin,”_ Legolas said quietly, then he yawned, “You’d think I wouldn’t be tired, given how long I’ve been asleep.”

“I think you’re still recovering,” Thranduil said gently, sensing a lingering resentment in Legolas’ demeanour. He stood up, “Let me just change out of these clothes before Galion gets on my case about creasing them and then I’ll make you some tea and you can sleep.”

Legolas blinked sleepily,  
“Tea sounds good.”

* * *

 

Thranduil was fully prepared for Legolas to have fallen asleep again by the time he got back to his room with the tea. So, he was quite surprised to find his son still awake, if only just.

“Tea for you, Las.” Thranduil held out the cup for Legolas to take.

Legolas took the cup in both hands and sipped carefully,  
“Did you put honey in it?”

Thranduil settled next to Legolas with his own cup,  
“Of course I did. That is one habit of mine that I’m glad you picked up, in amongst all the terrible ones.” He watched Legolas take a few more sips, then wince and set the cup aside, “Are you alright, Las?”

“Mmm,” Legolas said softly, “Just don’t want to drink too much too soon and risk making myself sick.”

Thranduil nodded,  
“Wise choice. I’ll leave the cup there in case you want some more during the night.”

Legolas slid down until he was tucked in against Thranduil’s side,  
“Thank you, _Adar_.”

“You’re welcome, leafling,” Thranduil leaned down and kissed Legolas’ temple, “Sleep well, Las.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are now at the end of the Second Age. I'll try and be more regular with updating, but half of this story isn't written and half of it is only written in snippets and outlines etc. Also uni is a thing and since I'm a dancer, I'm usually either busy or exhausted from being busy. I'll do my best though.
> 
> The Elvish comes from either Hiswelókë (online) or Ambar Eldaron (which can be downloaded as an ebook). I also use the Sindarin Phrasebook by slarmstrong (tumblr user) because it has some other useful phrases that the dictionaries don't. If your Sindarin is better than mine and I've made a mistake, please correct me.  
> Daeradar- Grandfather  
> Adar- Father  
> Tôrenaneth- Uncle (lit. brother of my mother)  
> Tôr- Brother  
> ionin- my son  
> aranin- my king  
> gwadornin- my (sworn) brother  
> tôrnin- my brother  
> thêlnin- my sister  
> Thêlion- Nephew (lit. sister-son)  
> Naneth- Mother  
> adarnin- my father  
> Gin melin- I love you
> 
> As always, let me know if you liked it. Feel free to leave any comments, criticisms etc.   
> Come yell at me on tumblr: sebastianthegiraffe.
> 
> Next chapter: Legolas and Erynion both reach their majority (legal adulthood) and Elrond gets a visit from some old friends.
> 
> Tschüs!


	5. Coming of Age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: The Crown Must Pass  
> The survivors from Dagorlad return and the Greenwood must pick up the pieces and learn to live under a new king.
> 
> This Chapter:  
> Legolas and Erynion both reach their majority and Elrond gets a visit from some old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's a new chapter! Don't get used to this sudden burst of regularity, it's only because this chapter has been written for months before I even finished the previous one. *laughs awkwardly*  
> Anyway, there shouldn't be anything distressing or upsetting in this one, just a few references to events in past chapters.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

* * *

 

TA 27  
_Legolas and Erynion are 99, going on 100.  
They are the equivalent of 25 year old humans, so they are now considered mature adults._

 

February

Early one cold winter morning, Erynion slipped into his cousin’s quarters. Legolas was asleep on the window seat, knees to his chest and head on his knees. His fine gold hair fell unbrushed over his shoulders and although he was dressed, he was barefoot.

Erynion shook Legolas’ shoulder gently,  
“Las, wake up.”

Legolas uncurled himself and blinked sleepy grey eyes at his cousin,  
“Ery? Is something wrong?”

Erynion laughed,  
“Nothing’s wrong, Las. Any particular reason you’re not in bed?”

“I woke up really early, I’m not quite sure why, but then I couldn’t get back to sleep. So I got dressed and went for a walk in the forest. Then when I got back, I fell asleep.”

Looking at his cousin, Erynion could now see that Legolas had a thin scratch on one cheek. He sighed,  
“Tree try to give you a kiss, Las?”

“Huh?”

“The scratch on your cheek.”

Legolas put his hand to it,  
“Oh, yes actually. It was a rather touchy-feely beech tree.”

Erynion looked down at Legolas’ feet, bare apart from the fine silver chain he wore around his left ankle, adorned with tiny silver leaves.  
“You went out without shoes?”

Legolas didn’t seem bothered by it,  
“Yes. And?”

“You do realise it’s currently winter. Not concerned about frost? Snow?” At Legolas’ shrug, Erynion shook his head in fond exasperation, “Proper Woodelf you are, Las.”

Legolas smiled brightly,  
“I am my mother’s son. So why are you up so early?”

Erynion pulled Legolas to his feet,  
“I’m taking you somewhere. But I want you to put shoes on.”

Legolas shot Erynion a puzzled look, but he dutifully found shoes. Not his boots, but a much lighter pair.  
“Where are we going, Ery?”

Erynion opened the big window, hopped onto the sill and extended a hand to his cousin,  
“Wait and see.”

With another of his brilliant smiles, Legolas took his cousin’s hand and let himself be pulled into the still dark forest outside.

* * *

 

 The shadow of night was still on the forest of the Greenwood as the two cousins traversed the network of tangled branches, but both were blessed with the incredible eyesight of their people and could find their way with little trouble.

Although he was curious about where Erynion was taking him, Legolas was content to merely follow his cousin’s lead, climbing up and up and up. Right up towards the very tops of the Greenwood’s tall trees.

As they came up through the canopy, Legolas’ gaze was drawn upwards. Above them, the sky was still deep midnight blue, dotted with the silver pinpricks of stars. A frost-laden breeze stirred their hair, gold and silver-blond strands caught in its teasing breath.

Legolas breathed a sigh, his breath misting in the cold air,  
“A sight like this is almost worth getting out of bed for.”

Erynion nudged him playfully,  
“You weren’t in bed, Las.”

Legolas nudged him back,  
“You were. And I was, before I went for my walk.”

Erynion smiled,  
“Well, as beautiful as the stars of Our Lady Varda Elentári are, that is not why I brought you up here.”

In the half-light, Legolas couldn’t see Erynion’s face properly, but he knew that Erynion’s icy blue eyes would be shining with joy and a hint of mischief.  
“If not for the stars, then why are we up here, Ery?”

“Wait and see.”

* * *

 

 How long they sat there, Erynion did not know. But Legolas was a warm presence against his side and they were both happy to just sit in silence with the stars dancing above.

But as Legolas’ head began to grow heavy on his cousin’s shoulder, Erynion elbowed him gently in the ribs,  
“Las, don’t fall asleep. You’ll miss what I brought you up here for.”

Legolas blinked,  
“I’m awake, Ery. What are we waiting for?”

“Look to the east and you’ll see.”

As they turned as one and resettled facing east, the sky was beginning to turn pink on the horizon, fading to lilac and shades of blue further up.

Together they sat, shoulder to shoulder. Or rather, shoulder to head as Legolas was leaning on Erynion again.

Slowly, the first rays of sunlight began to make their golden presence known and eventually, majestically, the sun came up.

Legolas sighed happily, putting his arms around Erynion’s waist and tucking himself tight against his cousin’s side,  
“Thank you for this, Ery.”

With a little bit of careful twisting, Erynion managed to lean down and kiss Legolas’ forehead,  
“Happy 100th begetting day, Las.”

* * *

 

 The sun was well and truly up by the time they made it back to the palace. Sunlight filtered through the dense network of leafless branches to shine dappled patterns onto the forest floor. And onto Legolas’ gold hair, which made him look like a spirit of the wood itself, all slender limbs and flyaway hair and strange grey eyes.

“You coming in, Las?” Erynion asked, as they perched on the branch just outside Legolas’ bedroom window.

Legolas nodded distractedly,  
“In a bit. You go on ahead, Ery.”

Erynion raised an eyebrow at his cousin,  
“Okay. I’ll see you for breakfast, yes?”

“Mmm? Oh, breakfast. Yes, of course.”

Frowning slightly at his cousin’s obvious preoccupation with something, Erynion left him sitting in the tree. Legolas had always been more in tune with his Sylvan heritage than Erynion was with his.

* * *

 

 Thranduil found Legolas sometime later, still in the tree,  
“Las?”

If it had been anyone else, they probably would have fallen out of the tree. Legolas merely flinched and caught himself before he fell off the branch.  
“Oh. Morning, _Adar_.”

Thranduil shook his head,  
“What are you doing?”

Legolas walked along the branch and stepped neatly onto the window-seat,  
“I was talking to the tree.”

“You’re wearing shoes,” Thranduil said in surprise.

“Ery made me put shoes on. He took me up into the canopy to watch the sunrise.”

Thranduil sighed,  
“And was it a beautiful one?”

Legolas nodded,  
“Yes. It was and we were up early enough that the stars were still out.”

Knowing that Legolas loved the stars, as all his mother’s folk did, Thranduil smiled,  
“I imagine that was a sight to behold.”

“As always,” Legolas said with a smile, “Did you want me for something, _Adar_?”

Thranduil held out his arms,  
“Can’t I just come to wish my son a happy begetting day?”

Legolas embraced his father,  
“Of course you can. I was just checking there wasn’t anything pressing you wanted me for.”

Thranduil returned the embrace, wondering how his son had grown so tall in only 100 years,  
“Only to wish you a happy 100th begetting day, Greenleaf.”

* * *

* * *

 

 May

“Wake up, Ery.”

Erynion groaned and buried his face in the pillow,  
“No, it’s too early.”

His cousin’s silvery laugh at this remark made Erynion smile,  
“Come on, Ery. The sun has been up for hours and so have I.”

Erynion rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow. Legolas was perched on the window-sill, having obviously just come in from outside; there were leaves in his hair and he had a smudge of dirt on his cheek.  
“You’re always up early, Las. Even when you don’t need to be.”

Legolas nodded,  
“True. But how can you not want to be up on a day like this?” He gestured outside, “The sun is bright and the sky is bluer than your eyes, cousin. As if that could even be possible. But then again it’s not quite the right blue either, it’s sky blue obviously and your eyes are much paler, more like ice…”

As Legolas went off on a tangent about first one thing, and then another, Erynion grinned. His cousin had an uncanny ability to make links between seemingly unrelated subjects and once he got started on one thing, he could keep going and going for hours. Legolas kept talking as Erynion dragged himself out of bed, washed his face and found some clothes.

Listening to Legolas ramble on about something in a strange combination of Sindarin, Westron and Khuzdul, Erynion laughed,  
“Las, for Valar’s sake, what’s got you so excited? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so much.”

Legolas shook himself vigorously,  
“Sorry. The forest’s so full of energy because it’s springtime again. Sometimes its Song bleeds into mine and it makes me a bit…”

“Hyperactive?” Erynion suggested, watching Legolas fidget.

Legolas grinned,  
“Yes, that.” He inclined his head towards the open window, “You coming?”

Taking his cousin’s outstretched hand, Erynion let Legolas pull him into the forest in the reverse of what they’d done only a few months previously.

* * *

 

 Legolas had far more skill in the treetops than Erynion, but he had slowed down to match his cousin’s pace. Erynion could practically see the forest’s energy thrumming in Legolas’ veins; the prince’s corn-gold hair shone like real gold in the dappled sunlight and his eyes flickered between their usual silver-grey and brilliant forest green as he moved in and out of the light.

“What?” Legolas said, having caught Erynion staring at him.

Erynion laughed,  
“Nothing. Just thinking that you look a spirit of the forest, the sunlight keeps turning your eyes different colours.”

Legolas closed his eyes, a slightly pained expression crossing his face,  
“ _Daeradar’s_ used to do that too. It’s because of the colour, that really pale silver.”

Erynion cupped his cousin’s pointed chin in one hand,  
“He’d be very proud of you, Las.”

“I know,” Legolas said softly, opening his eyes again. He smiled at Erynion, “Thank you, Ery.”

Erynion slung an arm around Legolas’ shoulders and squeezed,  
“You’re welcome, Las.”

Legolas pulled away from the embrace, his eyes sparkling again,  
“Come on, Ery. Or we’ll be late.”

Erynion let himself be pulled off through the trees again,  
“Late for what, Las?”

“Wait and see.” Came the reply, tinged with silver laughter.

* * *

 

 King Thranduil sat on a low branch with his back comfortably up against the trunk of the tree and his long legs dangling, watching Lord Tegalad pace around the clearing.

“Where is he? I thought Las was bringing him.”

Princess Siladhiel laughed, as she approached them with a glass of wine in each hand,  
“Something for your nerves, _Hervenn_? And for you, brother dearest.”

Thranduil accepted the glass with a gracious nod,  
“Thank you, sister dearest. Relax, Tegalad, they’ll be here.”

“Eventually,” Siladhiel said with a smile, “Las probably got side-tracked by a tree or a squirrel or something.”

Thranduil stifled a rather unkinglike snort with his free hand,  
“Sil has a point. Spring’s in the air which means it’s all in Las’ head right now, so he’s a bit more easily distractible than usual.”

“I am not,” Legolas’ voice sounded above them and the prince dropped neatly out of a tree to land next to Lord Tegalad.

The Sylvan lord jumped and almost spilled his glass of wine,  
“For Valar’s sake, Las. I wish you wouldn’t do that.” He looked around, “Where’s Ery?”

“Coming,” Legolas said cheerfully, “He’s a little slow climbing down.”

Erynion emerged from between the trees, pulling leaves out of his hair,  
“I’m not slow. You’re just like quicksilver with the Song of Spring in your blood.”

Legolas smiled brightly,  
“I can’t help it, Ery. _Naneth_ always said I was born with wildness in my soul.”

Siladhiel breezed over and kissed her nephew’s cheek,  
“Well, we would not have you any other way, Greenleaf.”

Tegalad had an arm around Erynion’s shoulders,  
“Shall we proceed with our original plans for this morning?”

“Which is what?” Erynion asked, “Las wouldn’t tell me anything.”

Legolas spread his arms wide,  
“Why breakfast, dear cousin. Late, of course, but you will insist on sleeping in.”

Erynion rolled his eyes,  
“You’re impossible.”

Legolas grinned,  
“You know you love me anyway.”

Thranduil put an arm around each of them,  
“As we all love both of you.”

Siladhiel smiled gently and stretched up to kiss Erynion’s forehead, although he had to bend down slightly so she could reach.  
“Happy 100th begetting day, darling.”

* * *

* * *

 

 September

Thranduil glanced sideways at his son. Legolas was riding next to him, the early morning sunlight shining on his gold hair and the sky above catching in his grey eyes and turning them the same summer-blue. It was an interesting feature of Legolas’ eyes, one he shared with Oropher. Having eyes that were such a pale grey as to be almost colourless meant that his eye colour sometimes seemed to change. The effect was merely caused by the pale eye colour acting like a mirror to whatever Legolas happened to be looking at, in this case the blue sky overhead, but it was quite striking.

“You are sure you want to do this?”

Legolas turned his gaze from the sky to his father, his eyes shifting to their usual silver-grey,  
“Yes. But I stand by what I said before. Rilien, not Legolas, and I am not your son, merely a cousin of your wife. I am not a prince, I am an archer and a scout and I cannot speak Quenya.”

Thranduil sighed,  
“I’ll do my best to remember that. At least Rilien actually is your name, in a sense.”

“Why do you think I chose it when I was here last time?” Legolas said with a cheeky grin.

Thranduil just shook his head and smiled.

* * *

 

 Glorfindel leaned comfortably against a pillar and watched Elrond pacing,  
“Relax, El. They’ll be here soon, don’t worry. And who knows, they may even have brought Rilien with them.”

At the mention of the young elf they had returned to the Greenwood so many years before, Elrond smiled,  
“It’s unlikely, but it would be good to see him again. I do wonder sometimes what he’s really like, when he’s not terrified witless and heartsick with grief.”

Glorfindel was about to answer when he caught sight of a group of horses approaching the Valley. Even from this distance, he could make out Thranduil at the front, his silver-blond hair streaming out behind him. It always struck Glorfindel how regal Thranduil managed to look, even in travelling clothes and with no crown.

As the horses galloped through the archway into the courtyard, the two Imladrian elves stared at the elf riding next to King Thranduil, a young elf astride a fine dappled grey horse with a single black sock.

Tall, slender, sharp cheekbones, his bright gold hair caught and tangled in the wind, his eyes shining with laughter at something Thranduil had said.

“Is that…” Elrond began.

“Rilien,” Glorfindel breathed.

* * *

  

Glorfindel had spent more time with the young elf than Elrond, during his long trip back from the wilds of Eriador after finding Rilien. In amongst the pain and grief and tears and nightmares, Glorfindel had glimpsed a brave young elf, bright and sweet-natured, with a razor-sharp wit and a gorgeous smile. But despite all the coaxing and support, no-one had actually been able to get out of Rilien why he’d been in Eriador if he was from the Greenwood.

As Elrond went to greet Thranduil and his company, Glorfindel hung back. Rilien looked much better than when he’d last seen the young Greenwood elf. He was still slender, but there was definitely more meat on his bones and his cheekbones were merely sharp, rather than being like shards of glass. Watching Rilien brush his flyaway gold hair out of his face, Glorfindel was struck by how much he looked like Thranduil.

Rilien suddenly turned to look towards Glorfindel. His pale grey eyes met Glorfindel’s blue ones and they stared at each other for a moment. Then Rilien smiled that brilliant smile and flew across the courtyard to wrap his long limbs around Glorfindel.

Caught off balance, Glorfindel staggered,  
“Rilien, I did not expect to see you.”

Rilien’s face was positively shining with joy,  
“It is good to see you, Glorfindel.”

Glorfindel embraced the young elf properly,  
“As it is to see you. You look much better than when we last parted company.”

 Elrond and Thranduil approached the pair. As Thranduil and Glorfindel clasped forearms, Elrond embraced Rilien.

“It is good to see you, young one. How have you been?”

Rilien smiled blindingly again,  
“Very well, thank you, my lord. I’m sorry that I didn’t get the chance to properly thank you when you took me back to the Greenwood.” He glanced at Thranduil, “The king and Lord Tegalad helped me find my family. So when I was asked if I wanted to come to Imladris with them, I said yes. I couldn’t pass up the chance to see you and Glorfindel again, to say thank you for helping me.”

Elrond patted Rilien’s arm,  
“You are most welcome, my friend.” He turned to where Thranduil and Glorfindel had started arguing about something, “Shall we get you settled before dinner, Thran?”

Thranduil quirked an eyebrow at his friend,  
“I think I’m quite happy staying in my current outfit, El.” He gestured to his clothes, “Sweat, mud, grass stains and all.”

Much to Elrond’s surprise, Rilien snorted, though he tried to hide his laughter behind his hand. Thranduil, seeing Rilien trying not to laugh, bit his lip in the same attempt. Then he started laughing as well.

* * *

  

Leaving Thranduil to find clean clothes, Elrond went in search of Rilien. He wanted to make sure the young elf was alright, having not seen him since the end of the Second Age.

Rilien was in the gardens, sitting on a low bough of one of the big trees. He seemed to be having a conversation with it, but he smiled down at Elrond,  
“Lord Elrond, did you need something?”

Elrond returned the smile,  
“Only to check if you were alright, Rilien.”

Rilien patted the tree, as if in farewell, then he jumped down,  
“I am well, my lord.”

Leading Rilien to a bench, Elrond sat down and patted the space next to him,  
“Come, sit with me a while. Tell me of your family.”

Rilien sat cross-legged on the bench,  
“My father is a great warrior, fiery and passionate, but he is also wise and gentle and one of the kindest people I know. We lost my mother some years ago, but I remember her as being beautiful and kind, very clever and brave as well.” He looked a little sad, and Elrond felt an urge to put an arm around his shoulders.

“Was your mother’s death the reason Glorfindel found you wandering?”

Rilien looked down,  
“Yes. My grandfather asked me to look out for my father, to be his strength, but I couldn’t do it. I did not know how to manage his grief on top of my own.”

“What was your mother’s name?” Elrond asked gently.

“Her name was Laerwen,” Rilien said softly, “She was the cousin of King Thranduil’s wife, Lady Alassiel.”

Elrond nodded slowly,  
“Is that why Thranduil is so familiar with you?”

Rilien smiled fondly,  
“Yes, he is like an uncle to me and he refuses to have me call him king. He was actually the one who asked me if I would like to come back to Imladris. Aside from wanting to pass my thanks on to you and Lord Glorfindel, I also wanted to see the valley again.” He laughed softly, “Now that I am beyond my despair for the most part.”

“Well,” Elrond said, “I hope your stay in Imladris brings you a little peace.” He stood up, “You’ll join us for dinner?”

Rilien followed him back towards the house a little way,  
“Of course, my lord.”

Elrond turned back at the house, only to see Rilien leaping back up into the tree. Shaking his head, the Peredhel lord made his way back inside, smiling to himself,  
_Woodelves…_

* * *

  

Thranduil was hunting through his belongings, pulling things out and disturbing all the neat folding his sister had done prior to their departure.  
“Oh, where is it?”

“Looking for this?”

Thranduil whirled around to see Legolas leaning on the doorframe, dangling the king’s informal circlet from one hand,  
“Las! Sorry, Rilien. Valar, that’s going to take some getting used to. Where did you find that?”

Legolas tossed the circlet easily from hand to hand,  
“I didn’t find it, I had it the whole time. You know your sister doesn’t trust you with keeping track of your belongings.” He handed Thranduil the circlet.

Putting the circlet on the bed, Thranduil ran his fingers through his silvery hair,  
“Do you mind doing my braids for me, L-Rilien?”

“Good save,” Legolas said with a smile, “Of course I don’t mind doing your hair.”

As Legolas set to work braiding his father’s hair, Thranduil asked,  
“So how are you finding Imladris this time around?”

Legolas smiled,  
“Much more enjoyable. There is an old oak tree in the gardens that remembered me from last time, so I had a nice long chat with it. I like that tree, it is kind.” He paused, “And then Lord Elrond came into the gardens and found me.”

“Were you hiding from him?” Thranduil teased.

Legolas snorted,  
“No I was not. But he was looking for me, so I came down from the tree and talked with him.” He handed his father the brush, “Hold that please.”

“Of course,” Thranduil said,    
“What did you talk about?”

Legolas shrugged,  
“He wanted to know how I was doing, or rather how Rilien was doing. And then he asked about Rilien’s family.”

Thranduil nodded, “So what did you say about Rilien’s family?”

“I told him the truth,” Legolas said calmly.

Thranduil almost dropped the brush in surprise,  
“You did what?”

Legolas laughed,  
“Relax, I didn’t tell him the whole truth. I only gave him one name, that of Rilien’s mother and it was a fake name.”

Thranduil breathed a sigh of relief,  
“As you did with yours. That was smart thinking.”

Legolas tied off Thranduil’s last braid and folded his arms, grinning smugly,  
“I know it was smart thinking, that’s why I did it. Now, even if they do find out the truth, they cannot accuse us of keeping secrets, because everything I said was true.”

Thranduil shook his head,  
“We are a suspicious bunch, aren’t we?”

“Well you know what they say about Woodelves,” Legolas said, scooping Thranduil’s circlet off the bed and depositing it into his father’s hands, “Less wise and more dangerous.”

“Less wise, my arse,” Thranduil said with a rather undignified snort.

Legolas sniggered,  
“Not very king-like, my lord.”

Thranduil settled his circlet neatly on his head,  
“Well, I am only the pagan king of a bunch of unruly, uncivilised Woodelves.” He smirked, “According to most Noldor anyway.”

Legolas rolled his eyes, making sure his own circlet was centred properly,  
“I have never understood this grudge you have against the Noldor.”

“Not all Noldor,” Thranduil said, “Elrond and I are good friends.”

“Fine,” Legolas said with a dismissive gesture, “But he’s not purely Noldor, he’s also part Sindar. And you definitely dislike Galadriel. Besides, they tend to get knowledge and wisdom mixed up.” He grinned, “Less wise from a Noldor doesn’t mean the same as when we say it.”

Thranduil nodded,  
“True enough. And the more dangerous part?”

Legolas leaned against the doorframe, a wicked glint in his silver eyes,  
“Name one of your captains I can’t beat in a sparring match.”

“Definitely more dangerous.” Thranduil agreed.

They both laughed.

* * *

 

 Elrond smiled as Thranduil and Rilien entered the room. They were speaking a language he didn’t understand, but Rilien’s bright smile and the warm fondness in Thranduil’s eyes was enough to tell Elrond that the two were close, even if Rilien had not told him as much earlier.

“Evening, El,” Thranduil said.

Elrond returned the greeting,  
“And a very good evening to you too, Thran. And Rilien as well.”

Rilien dipped his head,  
“Good evening to you, Lord Elrond. I trust we find you well?”

“Very well, thank you.” Elrond said, “Come, won’t the two of you join Glorfindel and me for dinner?”

“That would be wonderful,” Thranduil replied.

Rilien just nodded politely and didn’t say anything.

Glorfindel breezed into the room,  
“Oh, Thranduil, Rilien. I did wonder who Elrond meant when he said we’d have company for dinner.” He put an arm around the young elf’s shoulders, “How was your day, Rilien?”

Rilien, who had flinched slightly at Glorfindel’s touch, shrugged awkwardly and avoided the Balrog Slayer’s eyes,  
“Just a day, I suppose. Though markedly different to a normal day at home.”

“And what would a normal day in the Greenwood consist of for you?” Elrond asked curiously.

Rilien twitched slightly, like he wasn’t particularly comfortable with being the centre of attention,  
“Doing my lessons and talking to the trees mostly, although sometimes Lainathion and I go out riding in the forest.”

Glorfindel led the way out to the balcony, where a table had been set for four,  
“Who’s Lainathion? One of your fellow Woodelves?”

Both Woodelves seemed to find this highly amusing, for they both laughed as they sat down.

Elrond looked from one to the other,  
“What’s so funny?”

Rilien managed to get his laughter under control, though he sounded slightly breathless,  
“I mean no offense, my lords. It’s just an amusing thought. Lainathion isn’t an elf, he’s my horse.”

Thranduil studied the table,  
“Will Celebrían not be joining us, El?”

Elrond shook his head,  
“No, I’m afraid not. She’s visiting her parents.”

“Ah yes, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel,” Thranduil said with a slight note of contempt.

Elrond sighed,  
“You really don’t like Galadriel, do you?”

“It’s not that I don’t like her,” Thranduil said slowly, tracing a pattern on the tabletop, “I just don’t trust her, that’s all.”

Glorfindel snorted,  
“Oropher’s son through and through, you are.”

Rilien covered his mouth with his hand, but the gleam in his eyes told Elrond that the young elf was smiling.

Thranduil had noticed it too, for he nudged Rilien gently and said something in the Sylvan tongue.

Rilien smiled shyly and replied in the same language.

“So…” Glorfindel said, “How exactly are you two related?”

At a nod from Thranduil, Rilien answered,  
“My mother, Laerwen, was a distant cousin to the Lady Alassiel. But since my mother’s death in the Late Second Age, my father has grown distant and so I spend more time at the palace, where Thranduil has graciously agreed to take me under his wing.”

“You do look a bit like Lady Alassiel,” Elrond said thoughtfully, “But there’s something about your eyes…”

Suddenly a whole fleet of serving elves arrived with food and whatever Elrond had been about to say was lost amid the clatter of serving dishes and cutlery.

* * *

 

Later, after Thranduil and Rilien had retired to their rooms, Elrond sat on the balcony, staring at the stars.

“Lost in thought?”

Elrond turned to raise an eyebrow at Glorfindel, who was leaning against a pillar,  
“Not lost, but I was thinking.”

The Balrog Slayer joined his friend on the bench,  
“Thinking about what?”

Elrond sighed,  
“Rilien. Didn’t you notice his eyes?”

“Yes…” Glorfindel said, “They’re very pale grey, sort of a steely silver colour.”

“They change colour,” Elrond said, “The light from the lantern kept turning them gold, but when he looked away from the light they turned the same colour as the setting sun.”

Glorfindel shrugged,  
“So the boy’s got eyes that act like mirrors. What of it?”

Elrond frowned,  
“I’ve only ever met one elf with eyes like that, eyes such a pale silver that they reflect what he’s looking at and so they appear to change colour.”

“Who?” Glorfindel asked.

Elrond sighed heavily,  
“The King of the Greenwood.”

“Thranduil? But his eyes are a funny blue-grey colour.”

“Not Thranduil.” Elrond said, fixing Glorfindel with his deep grey gaze, “His father, Oropher Talathion.”

Glorfindel gasped,  
“You think Rilien is somehow related to Oropher? But he looks entirely Sylvan.”

“I know. The logical explanation would be that he is Thranduil and Alassiel’s child, but I’m sure Thranduil would have told me if he and his wife had a son.”

“So how?”

Elrond shook his head,  
“I don’t know, Fin. But I feel somehow that Rilien, whoever he is, is going to be very important to the future of Middle-Earth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter, it's cute and a bit of needed fluff after the intensity of the past few chapters.  
> I will do my best to get the next chapter up soonish but uni starts next week and I'm going head-first back into dancing every day.
> 
> The Elvish comes from either Hiswelókë (online) or Ambar Eldaron (which can be downloaded as an ebook). I also the Sindarin Phrasebook by slarmstrong (tumblr user) because it has some other useful phrases that the dictionaries don't. If your Sindarin is better than mine and I've made a mistake, please correct me.  
> Adar- Father  
> Daeradar- Grandfather  
> Hervenn- Husband  
> Naneth- Mother
> 
> I feel I should explain why the Sindarin is all in italics. I have this headcanon that the Greenwood elves speak a different language to Sindarin, but with some Sindarin loan-words, hence the italics. But when non-Greenwood elves are speaking with them (e.g. Elrond or Glorfindel), they speak standard Sindarin, therefore no italics.
> 
> As always, let me know what you liked it. Feel free to leave any comments, criticisms etc.  
> Come yell at me on tumblr: sebastianthegiraffe
> 
> Next chapter: Friendships are tested and secrets threaten to surface, as Elrond's family expands.
> 
> Tschüs!


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